


Survivor's Guilt

by DestinyFreeReally



Category: Veronica Mars (TV)
Genre: F/M, uh
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-06
Updated: 2019-01-22
Packaged: 2019-01-30 11:34:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 24,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12652734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DestinyFreeReally/pseuds/DestinyFreeReally
Summary: When her fiance Duncan Kane dies in a car accident they were both in, it's left to Veronica Mars to piece her life back together, cancel her wedding, and deal with her almost-husband's estate. So when questions start popping up that Veronica doesn't know the answers to, uncovering Duncan's secrets after his death is Veronica's new mission, and she turns to Duncan's best friend to explain why she didn't know big things about her fiance.





	1. first you get hurt, then you get sorry

“We are _so_ sorry for your loss.”  
  
    Veronica heard the words, directed at her for the hundredth time, and nodded her thanks. She didn’t even look up to see which one of her extended family and friends had fixed their look of pity on her. She just managed a nod, and moved on to the next look of pity. _Sorry for your loss. Sorry your fiance’s dead, sorry the last words you said to him were angry, sorry you’re standing here and he isn’t, even though you were both in the car._  
  
    People came out of the woodwork to mourn her loss for her, everyone reminding her what a good guy he was, what a good friend, what a good boyfriend, like Veronica had forgotten him already. People kept shaking her hand, meeting her on the worst day of her life to date, and she didn’t know what to say to them. She didn’t know what she was supposed to say to any of them.  
  
    In her almost-was-never-would-be mother-in-law’s house for the reception, Veronica found herself hiding in the upstairs bathroom before she realized she’d even made her escape. Splashing cool water on her face didn’t pull her out of the fog as much as she expected it to, and she didn’t know whether to be relieved by that or not. Roadkill usually ends up dying on the side of the road, because even hit by a high speed truck, a deer will high-adrenaline scramble out of the line of fire. Veronica felt like she’d just been hit by the truck.  
  
    Climbing into the tub, Veronica pulled the shower curtain closed and sat down, and took a deep breath, running her hands down her face. Closing her eyes, she knew she had to go back out there, that people needed to tell her about their grief, that she needed to smile and say thank you for the wedding gifts she wouldn’t get to share with a husband she’d never get to marry. _But hey, silver lining, I’ll never end up splitting assets and deciding who gets to keep the toaster._  
  
     She’d only really said yes when he proposed because he’d been safe, he’d been a good guy, who was never supposed to leave her like this, never supposed to leave her alone to brave all their relatives, and talk to catering, and to hide.  
  
     Sitting up a little, Veronica thought she heard someone coming, and tried to muster the energy to get back up, to scramble to the side of the road.  
  
     When the bathroom door burst open, Veronica heard two people making out and fumbling for zippers and belts, and she tried to decide if it was better than hearing someone say how sorry they were.  
  
     “Fuck, you know, I never do this,” the girl said, in a breathy tone, backed up against the bathroom sink, and Veronica rolled her eyes.  
  
    “Mhm,” came the guy’s muffled reply, and realization flooded Veronica’s brain. _Who else._ The voice belonged to the  almost best man of her almost wedding, Veronica tried to contain her sigh.  
  
    “Oh yeah, right there, right there, right there,” the girl struggled to keep her voice low, and Veronica thought she could’ve been struggling just a little harder, given the funeral downstairs and all.  
  
    The bare-ass slapping against a bathroom sink commenced, Veronica closed her eyes and tried not to find the whole thing incredibly, horrifically funny. One of the worst days in her life, and Veronica found herself trying not to laugh at the humping noises coming from the other side of the shower curtain. The girl breathed out a sigh when she came, and Veronica just prayed they’d wash their hands and get out.  
  
     “That was fun,” the girl laughed, and Veronica bit her tongue to keep from arguing. “Call me, okay?” The girl was straightening up, making her post-coital chit-chat, and Veronica just shook her head. She couldn’t feel too bad for her, banging somebody at a funeral didn’t sound like a first-date story to really cherish.  
  
     The girl left, still giggling, and Veronica stood in the tub, and took a breath, before throwing the curtain back and scaring the guy still sitting on the sink. It was exactly who she expected, in exactly the state she expected, and she didn’t feel sorry to be right. Or to have scared him.  
  
    “ _Jesus,_ what are you- god, I’m-”  
  
    “Don’t say sorry,” Veronica ground out, rolling her eyes. “I was trying to hide from how _sorry_ everyone is,” she admitted, climbing out of the tub, still shaking her head. “Next time I’ll be locking the door.” With a look back at him, “You know, I heard you guys starting, and I was thinking _who_ would do this at somebody’s funeral reception, and I heard you talk and you know what? I wasn’t all that surprised, and I don’t think _he_ would’ve been, either, you know.”  
  
    Delivered to be cutting, Logan didn’t flinch.  
  
     “Duncan was my best friend,” he ran his hand through his hair, “he knew me better than anybody else,” he shrugged, looking away from the way Veronica’s eyes were judging him, harshly. “I really _am_ sorry, Veronica,” he didn’t specify for what, and met her eyes, judgement and all. She still had a cut on her forehead, from where he guessed she hit the dash, and bruising on her neck, probably from the seat belt, Logan guessed. But she was alive, and Duncan wasn’t, because of the seat belt.  
  
    “I haveta go cancel the floral arrangements for my wedding, and supplement them for floral arrangements for a wake,” she offered him a bitter smile, “if you’ll excuse me.”  
  
    “Can’t someone else do that? Celeste or something? I could do it if you want?” Logan’s questions stopped Veronica from leaving, but she opened the bathroom door to go. “Duncan wouldn’t have wanted-”  
  
   “Wait five minutes before coming down, the last thing I need is someone thinking we were up here _together._ ” She left him with a glare, and a sigh, and Logan just nodded at her back. 

* * *

  
  
  
     Eyeing the big, white, wedding cake in the fridge, Logan dipped his finger in the buttercream frosting and licked, and then his eyes pushed past the cake to the champagne.  
  
    Someone behind him cleared their throat, and Logan prepared another apology for Veronica, but turned to find one of her best friends, Wallace.  
  
    “You think they’re using this?” Logan gestured to the cake, and champagne, and leaned back from the open fridge. “How’s she doing?” He asked, wondering if Veronica mentioned his indiscretion of the day, it was bad enough that the coat check girl giggled every time he walked by.  
  
    “Veronica?” Wallace leaned on the kitchen counter, “Doctors say she’ll be okay, only one sprained rib from the seat belt,” with a shrug, Wallace was sure that wasn’t what Logan meant, but physically, Veronica would be okay soon. Duncan had been driving, when they collided with the other car, and he hadn’t been wearing his seat belt, according to the police report.  
  
    “Sprained ribs make it hurt to breathe,” Logan shook his head, “Read that someplace,” he shrugged.  
  
    Wallace played with the end of his tie, nodding, “Look, man, I know we’ve had our differences, but I can’t imagine losing my best friend, and I’m-”  
  
    “Sorry for your loss,” Veronica interrupted, sweeping into the kitchen with a small, mournful smile. “So, are we drinking the champagne I already put a deposit on, or am _I_ drinking the champagne I already put a deposit on?” She asked, scooting past Logan’s shoulder to look in the fridge. The wedding cake made her feel nauseous, no alcohol required.  
  
    The grief counselor for the funeral home assured her that substances like alcohol wouldn’t help her cope- but as the guests tapered off, and the terrible day started to come to an end, it occurred to Veronica that alcohol would help her sleep.  
  
    “Didn’t you suffer a recent concussion? Alcohol could aggravate your condition,” Logan smiled innocently, and pushed the fridge closed.  
  
    “ _You’re_ aggravating my condition,” Veronica countered, all the graces of a grieving almost-widow zapped out of her, and Logan suppressed a genuine smile. If he and Wallace’s relationship could be termed rocky, Logan’s relationship with his best friend’s fiance could’ve been termed tumultuous. The wilder of the two boys, Logan knew Veronica blamed him for a lot of Duncan’s more Logan-esque moments and Logan could never decide if the blame was fairly placed. Adding his mid-funeral indiscretion to the running tab he had on Veronica’s shitlist, Logan ducked his head, and thought about his best friend.  
  
    “Easy, Supafly, your pain meds are still at my place, you’re crashing with me tonight, right?” Wallace interrupted the glare off between Logan and Veronica, and shook his head. “I’ll get your jacket and tell your dad we’re ready, okay?” He left when Veronica nodded, too worn out to thank him for handling a lot for her, including her.  
  
    Finding herself alone with Logan for the second time in a bad day, Veronica shook her head.  
  
    “I should talk to Celeste,” Veronica sighed, “thank her or apologize some more or… I don’t even know.”  
  
    “Now _that_ I can do,” Logan offered, but stiffened. “I’ve been charming Celeste Kane since I was thirteen,” Logan ran his hand through his hair, and lowered his voice just for her. “About before… I just wanted to be anywhere but here, you know?”  
  
    “Really? Well, I was hiding in the bathtub because today was just a dream sequence for me, personally.” Veronica rolled her eyes and excused herself.


	2. Home, Again

     They’d been looking at houses to move into after they got married, and all Veronica could think about was how relieved she was that they hadn’t agreed on a house before he died. Their apartment had signs of him everywhere, the side of the dresser he kept, his products all over their bathroom. The 1% milk he liked in his coffee was still in the fridge, probably spoiled since she hadn’t cleaned out her fridge in the two days since the funeral. She’d been camping out in Wallace’s, but even he’d kicked her out after two days without a shower. The truth was, she wanted to keep hiding from their apartment, and putting the key in the door, and going back in without Duncan, Veronica exhaled a shaky breath, half-expecting a ghost of a fiance to be sitting on their couch.   
  
     _Nope, no ghost._ She entered the apartment, and dropped her funeral heels by the door, shaking her head. Those were going to have to get thrown away, or at least pushed to the back of her closet.   
  
    Checking her mail, Veronica reminded herself that she had an estate to manage, and set her mind on getting started. Tossing her keys on the kitchen table like Duncan used to hate, Veronica took another deep breath. An annoyance to roll her eyes at just last week, she was sad that Duncan's could you put them in the key basket? was only in her head.

 

    Forcing herself to keep moving through the apartment, Veronica shook her head at how different everything felt. How changed. How empty. Pushing herself to venture into her own bedroom, Veronica expected to see a ghost, again. A phantom Duncan, asking why she lived when he didn't.

 

    Instead, Veronica took tentative steps into her own bedroom, and didn't find any ghosts, but...

 

    "Logan?"

 

    Shirtless and apparently asleep in her bed, Veronica reached to throw the covers off him, and then thought better of it. If he wasn't wearing a shirt, she didn't want to accidentally uncover anything else under her sheets. Her sheets, in her bed. " _Logan_?" She called again, and he rolled to his side, sleepily.

 

    "Hey, Veronica," Logan rubbed his hands on his face, " _Veronica_..." he blinked, suddenly awake and not alone. "I... figured you'd stay at your dad's or Wallace's for a couple days, I used the spare key Duncan gave me," he explained, a little. "I figured... I'm gonna be in town for a couple days, and I thought if you came home you might want the company."

 

   Pulling a t-shirt over his head, Logan had ruined enough Kane-Mars Thanksgiving hootenannies to recognize the visceral anger in Veronica's set jaw.

 

    "Don't you have... a movie to produce or a cocktail waitress to chase or something? You're telling me LA will just keep standing if you stay in Neptune a few more days?" Folding her arms over her chest with a huff, Veronica couldn't believe how _Logan,_ Logan could be. "You have no right to just barge in here and-"

 

    "Obviously I can take the couch while you're home, you still have the pull out, right? And, I can even help with the rent this month, since I'll be staying here and all. Veronica Mars would never kick out an old friend, she'd never make me slink down to the Neptune Grand and drown my sorrows at the hotel bar." Logan faced away from her to pull on his pants, and then turned back and smiled. "In an act of good faith, I already threw out the spoiled milk that was in your fridge," he added, softly, and saw some of her anger retreat. "I should've asked first," Logan surrendered, and thought that earned him some leniency, even with Veronica Mars.

 

    "Fuck, can I even afford this place on my own?" Pulled from her venomous thoughts about Logan, Veronica found herself back in the deep end of tragedy, flailing instead of swimming. Bringing up rent for this month, Veronica remembered that Duncan wouldn't be pulling his half of the rent, anymore. "Shit, I was only stopping home to pick up papers to take to the lawyers."

 

    Scrambling in her desk drawers for their most recent joint-bank-account statements, the insurance estimates from the accident and life insurance policies, and all her identifying forms.

 

    "Uh, maybe a shower first?" Logan called from the living room, to which he'd been banished. He was teasing, but Veronica looked worse since the funeral. Gorgeous blond hair hung stringy and flat, and the color that usually kept to her cheeks was gone pale.

 

    With a heavy sigh, Veronica collected her paperwork into a nice, neat pile, and didn't even give Logan the satisfaction of seeing the glare she wanted to send his way. She put her hair up and slammed the bathroom door behind her, shaking her head to herself.

 

    "I'm locking the door, this time," she called, and couldn't tell if she was teasing him or genuinely scolding him.

 

    Out of all the people she expected to be handling her spoiled milk, Logan Echolls wasn't quite last, but he definitely wasn't one of Veronica's first guesses. _Although_ , she thought to herself. Five years ago, Lilly Kane, Duncan's sister and Logan's then-girlfriend, died in a car accident, so Veronica knew it wasn't Logan's first turn on the grief circuit. Five years ago, she'd only just started dating Duncan, but she knew the accident, and Lilly’s death, changed Logan, a lot. And losing his sister changed Duncan, too. _What'll change about me?_ She looked at herself in the mirror, and Logan and Wallace had been right, she needed a shower. She needed a deep breath. A private moment, where no one was hugging her or feeling bad for her or accidentally reminding her about Duncan. _When will that moment happen?_

  
    Once she’d cried into the hot shower, Veronica found that she didn’t feel better, but she didn’t feel worse.   
  
   “I’m going to the see the lawyers,” she explained, an armful of paperwork pressed against her chest on her way out the door, it was all the goodbye she offered Logan, who was day-drinking warm beer on her couch and apparently serious about staying for a few days. _A few days,_ she promised herself that was all she was giving him, and silently and secretly was grateful her apartment wasn’t empty, yet. She wasn’t ready to sit in the quiet, not yet. Even if it had to be Logan Echolls who sat around making noise.


	3. In the Balance

    She’d dated guys that lied to her before. She’d dated guys that withheld information. Apparently, she’d even agreed to marry one of those.    
  
    Blinking, Veronica was positive she must’ve misheard.    
  
    “Ten million dollars?” She repeated, and cleared her throat. “Duncan had an account outside of our joint accounts, and it has ten million dollars in it?”   
  
    Smoothing her fingertips over the edges of the bank statement, Veronica remembered the night they’d had the awful  _ what-if the-worst-case-scenario  _ conversation over a year ago. She remembered agreeing to be Duncan’s estate manager, and him agreeing to be hers, should the  _ worst case scenario _ ever become reality. Standing knee deep in worst case scenario, Veronica took a deep breath.    
  
   “That’s correct, ma’am,” Nancy, the lawyer Veronica just met, nodded, “A little over ten million dollars, yes.”    
  
    She remembered agreeing to manage his estate, and had a hundred easy questions about why Duncan never told her just how much estate there was to manage. The  _ Kanes _ had money, Celeste had money since Jake died, the Kane  _ business  _ had money. Duncan? Duncan had never indicated he had that kind of money, personally.   
  
    “Almost six years,” Veronica felt herself rapidly nearing the anger stage of grief, “Why wouldn’t someone mention something like ten million dollars in six  _ years _ ?” Picking that question to ask out loud first, Veronica’s mind went to a place it hadn’t been since her freshman year of college. And none of the answers it was conjuring there were any good.    
  
    “I don’t know that, Ms. Mars,” Nancy tilted her head, putting her eyes back on the paperwork. “There are lots of reasons people don’t talk about money, they fear awkwardness or don’t know how to bring it up,” the lawyer offered.   
  
    Veronica recognized the pity in the woman’s face, and this time, she let herself be a little bit angry with Duncan over it. All those mourners, all the people feeling sorry for her at the funeral, trying to fit themselves into her shoes, those hadn’t been Duncan’s fault.    
  
    But this time, Nancy was pitying her because of something Duncan did. Veronica huffed a sigh, and liked that a whole lot less.   
  
    “This statement is from the last three months, and the same two payments were made each month, do you know who this money goes to?” Asking the next question, keeping her eyes on the paper in front of her, Veronica’s head spun with possibility.    
  
    Six  _ years, _ she’d loved a nice, safe, responsible man, who tolerated her natural suspicion until he wore it down and no longer had to tolerate it.    
  
    “Ten thousand dollars a month, I saw the statement, but the records don’t indicate where the payments were made to, I’m sorry,” the lawyer braced one more awkward smile on Veronica, “And Ms.Mars, since you and Mr. Kane weren’t actually married, and legally with no will, that money goes to his family.” The apology was in the woman’s voice, the irony being that if Duncan hadn’t put Veronica in charge, she never would’ve known about the account. She never would’ve known the big, lucrative secrets he’d been apparently keeping.   
  
    With a stern nod and a deep breath, Veronica couldn’t really miss money she’d never known about, all she could do was wonder why she hadn’t known about it. Those families, that picked each other apart after a tragedy, every one scrambling for the big pay out after a loved one died. Veronica saw those families in  the periphery, and even if she'd almost been family with Celeste Kane, she wasn't about to get into an octagon over money Duncan hadn't even wanted her to know about. Mostly, she just wanted to know about it.    
  
    “Is there anything else you needed from me?” Veronica asked, and initialled where she was instructed. Meeting over, Veronica had to figure out what came next. She felt like she was constantly playing catch-up, reacting to the next disaster. If she could just get a  _ minute _ to freeze-frame the world and… and play  _ spot the difference _ with her old life, then maybe she would know what to do.   
  
    Duncan’s death certificate slipped easily back into it’s envelope, and Veronica swallowed the lump in her throat on her way back to the car. If the monthly payments were a business expense, Veronica knew the people at  _ Kane Industries _  to ask to follow up about them. But Duncan would’ve told her about a business expense, he would’ve mentioned a big business account he was managing. But then again, she assumed he would’ve told her about ten million dollars, so according to Nancy, Veronica was wrong about a few things about Duncan.    
  
    Running her knuckles against her chin, Veronica drove home without the radio, crushing her confused, panicky thoughts into subdued silence, as she pulled back up to her apartment and saw her dad’s car parked on the street.    
  
    “Honey,” Keith extended his arms out, embracing Veronica in a big hug when she came in. “I brought raviolis for my favorite daughter,” gesturing to the kitchen table, Keith led Veronica to a seat in her own home.    
  
    She felt a little better to have him there, more herself around her dad. And she actually welcomed the distraction from the $10 million dollars worth of questions that she wanted to ask a ghost.    
  
    “Will Logan be joining us?” Keith asked Logan, who’d surprised him by answering at his daughter’s apartment.    
  
    “No, sir,” Logan waved Keith off, and thought he saw Veronica relax for it. “Errands, and stuff, you guys enjoy,” Logan smiled at Veronica, and grabbed his keys from the key basket and made a speedy exit.    
  
    “He’s gonna crash on the couch for a couple days, while he’s still in Neptune,” Veronica supplied, and shrugged, taking a plastic fork and digging into the ravioli.    
  
    “You gonna be okay with him here, honey?” Keith asked, still eyeing the bruise he could see on his daughter’s neck. Losing Duncan was hard for her, he could see it on her face, in the way she moved. But just thinking about how he could’ve lost his daughter almost knocked Keith down. Seeing her in the hospital after the crash, Keith shook his head remembering her going for all those tests- all the brain scans, all the x-rays. But his little baby was alright, and now it was his job to make sure she was okay.    
  
    “He stayed with Duncan in his old apartment, after Lilly died,” Veronica remembered. Duncan always looked out for Logan, always helped him out of trouble, always gave him the couch. Plus, Veronica wasn’t sure where to start picking apart what she’d learned from Nancy, but she had a feeling if Duncan had secrets, Logan knew them.  “It’ll only be for a little,” Veronica shrugged, mouth full of ravioli and all. She tried to remember the last time she’d really eaten much of anything. “If you didn’t bring dessert, you’re losing your number one dad status.” She joked, and hoped it’d keep them from talking about anything too serious.    
  
   “Chocolate covered pretzels to dip in the ice cream I already put in the freezer.” With a soft smile, Keith tried to look for signs that Veronica was coping. She’d always been tough, but being vulnerable was hard for her. Loss was hard for her. The cut on her forehead still hurt him to look at it.    
  
    “My house, my rules, pops; and I’m starting a new rule, that ice cream must be eaten on the couch, over at least one Godfather movie.” Putting her best, weak, smile forward, Veronica tried her best to push Duncan to the back of her mind, for a few hours.    
  
    When she crawled into her bed finally, after another long day, she was too tired to think about the empty space on Duncan’s side, and she was too tired to argue with him in her head, about money or secrets or dying. 


	4. tough to be tender

     “Yes, thank you, who can I speak to about cancelling a booking?” Veronica sipped coffee at her kitchen table, her third phone call of the hour- first, the travel agent, then the airline, and finally the hotel. “No, I don’t need to reschedule or transfer my dates to another branch, I’d like to cancel please; I won’t be going to Aruba. Yes, I’ll hold.” Elevator music commenced on the line, and Veronica leaned her elbows on the table. 

     Logan blinked awake on the pull-out, Veronica’s clipped tones in his ear. Her back was to him in the apartment, but he could see she was on the phone. Pulling a t-shirt over his head, he sported brand new pajama bottoms all the way to the coffee pot, passed where Veronica was on hold.

     “Top you off?” He leaned over the table, and added coffee to her cup before pouring himself a mugful. “Morning, sunshine,” he smiled groggily, “Don’t worry, you didn’t wake me,” smiling sardonically, he sat across the table from Veronica, and appeared to make himself comfortable.

     Listening intently to her elevator-hold music, Veronica rolled her eyes and sipped her coffee. It couldn’t be her problem, if she woke him. Just like he shouldn’t have been concerned with how much coffee was left in her cup. There was no reason they couldn’t be civil, in such close proximity, but they didn’t have to be friends; they hadn’t ever really _been_ friends. She hadn’t gone out of her way to wake him up, but she hadn’t gone out of her way to _not_ wake him up, and she figured that was entirely fair. That was their relationship. She tolerated him grief-banging coat-check girls at her fiance’s funeral, and he… poured her coffee? Slept on her couch? Fine, so his role was a bit of moving target.

     Hopefully he would help her understand Duncan’s mystery finances, because Veronica didn’t want to discuss the situation with her father. She just wasn’t sure how to broach the subject with Logan, either. Fearing he didn’t know anything, and fearing he knew anything at all, Veronica wasn’t sure what kind of answer would satisfy her, so she didn’t ask the questions yet, and tuned back into her hold music.

     “It’s my house,” she pointed out softly, once Logan’s attention went to the newspaper on the table.

     “Oh, sorry, did you want the sports section, first?” Eyes still on the paper, Logan sipped his coffee when Veronica just sighed into the phone receiver.

     “Yes, I’m still here,” Veronica talked into the phone, and went back to ignoring Logan Echolls. Again, she wasn’t flaunting her business in front of him, she was just carrying on business as usual, whether or not he was there. He happened to be there, that was all. “I need to cancel, yes, that’s correct. Uh, reason? Um, well, truthfully, that trip was supposed to be a honeymoon, and since there won’t be a wedding… yes, so you understand.” Veronica rolled her eyes at the person on the line, when Logan’s eyebrows perked up her way. “I understand that the deposit is non-refundable, I just want to cancel the trip and get back whatever I can, yes. Okay, thank you, you’ve been helpful.” Pressing to end the call, Veronica exhaled a deep breath. Her honeymoon was cancelled, that much was over with, and she breathed easier for it. Duncan suggested Aruba, because sand and bikinis and mai-tais, but tropical vacations were nixed for the foreseeable future. On any other Sunday morning, Veronica imagined she might be in bed still with her fiance, maybe talking about his ten million mystery dollars. Instead she was cancelling her honeymoon, and drinking morning coffee with her dead-fiance's best friend.

     “You ever imagined you’d be begging someone to not make you go to Aruba?” Logan asked, mug against his lips, and Veronica tapped her fingernails against the table, shaking her head.

     “I never imagined anything about the last couple weeks,” she said honestly, mind on Duncan’s death, and Duncan’s secrets, not to mention Logan’s lingering.

     Logan cleared his throat, and nodded in agreement.

     “How was dinner with your dad?” He asked; he’d seen the leftover raviolis in the fridge, and couldn’t remember the last time Veronica Mars had food left over. Their Thanksgiving spreads usually satisfied her, but only just. And Logan couldn’t count how many times he’d watched Veronica steal Christmas dinner off of Duncan’s plate. He’d left the raviolis in the fridge untouched, no matter how good he imagined them to be when he got back to the apartment late the night before.

     “He’s worried, but,” Veronica sighed, tucking blonde hair behind her ear, “it’s not really the kind of thing he can handle for me, you know. He doesn’t understand why you’re staying here,” she admitted, asking a question without putting her name to it.

     “I can go, if you-”

     “I just mean, you haven’t spent that much time in Neptune the last couple of years, and...now, there’s just really nothing… keeping you here,” Veronica shrugged, being honest. Duncan was gone, and Duncan was one of Logan’s last real ties to Neptune.

     Finishing off the last of his coffee with a slurp, Logan shrugged back, looking Veronica’s way across the table. “Just not ready to say goodbye to this place, too,” he said, turning to rinse his mug in the sink. Leaning back against the counter when he was finished, Logan watched Veronica scribbling on a notepad. “You made a to-do list?” He blinked, never doubting the efficiency of Veronica Mars, just perpetually finding himself in awe of it. Even getting up for coffee had Logan wanting to head back to bed to take a break from a Duncan-less world, and Veronica, with the biggest hole in her life, tackled her problems one little thing at a time, and he saw it. “You’re like a superhero, you know that?” He kept his voice teasing, but shook his head at her.

     At 32 years old, Logan figured himself an old pro at tragedy. His mother’s suicide his junior year of high school primed Logan for picking up not-exactly-coping habits, but kept him moving through grief. Then Lilly’s car crash, and finally Duncan’s death, too. _A bigger egomaniac would connect the dots to themselves_ , Logan thought to himself, still leaning back on the counter. _Maybe all those exes were wrong, it_ is _me, not them._

     “Yeah, well, I’m not exactly picking out capes,” cracking her knuckles in her lap, Veronica didn’t see what was revolutionary about a to-do list. She had a lot of things _to do_. Plus, she still hadn't been back to work, she just couldn't stomach it, yet. The question about ten million dollars caught her throat as her phone rang, and made her jump. “Hi, Mrs. Kane, how are you?” With an almost-apologetic glance, Veronica answered her phone and forced herself to think about things other than Duncan’s secrets, again. “Of course, we can have lunch.” She tried to add an _‘I’d love to,’_ but she figured Celeste would know it wasn’t true. Truthfully, their relationship had it’s bumps, and without Duncan there to smooth them over, Veronica wondered what Celeste could want with her. And a tiny question asked itself in Veronica’s brain, wondering what Celeste knew about Duncan’s mysterious money.  
  
     "Lunch with Celeste?" Logan asked, once Veronica hung up. "Don't tell me she's finally starting to like you  _now."_ Ducking his head at her glare, he laughed. "Try and tell me you didn't know," he teased.  
  
     "Duncan definitely loved me against Celeste's better judgement." Veronica remembered the cold greetings, and the hand-wringing Celeste had done when Duncan proposed. Duncan had always tried his best to keep the peace, Veronica knew that, she'd always seen him try. "What do you think she wants?" She asked Logan, finally asking him a question she wanted the answer to.   
  
     "What makes you think she wants something?" Logan only offered Veronica a smirk, no real answer there.   
  
     "Gut feeling," clicking her tongue, Veronica took her to-do list off the table, and figured if she was going to be leaving the apartment, she had to get dressed. Mentally, Veronica tried to predict what Celeste Kane would need from her, especially then. Deciding to forego asking Logan about Duncan's money, Veronica decided to wait and see if Celeste'e lunch revealed anything that made any sense to her life with Duncan. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> had to take a couple days off from this one! but i'm back, and maybe we'll get this thing back on track :P


	5. Family Jewels

    Veronica’s hand was pressed between Celeste’s, and Veronica felt like she was having an honest to god, out of body experience. She was just somewhere else, high above the corner booth of  _ Ruggierio’s, _ completely out of earshot of the entire conversation she was having with her not-to-be mother-in-law.    
  
    “You want my engagement ring back,” Veronica stuttered the words out, trying to make sense of the whole scene, trying to call herself back from the faraway void she wished she was in. “You’re asking me for my ring back,” she repeated, her eyes drawn back down to where Celeste was squeezing her hand.    
  
    “Veronica…” Celeste’s voice went a shade soothing, with an eye darting around the restaurant. “It’s an old family heirloom, I know you wouldn’t be comfortable keeping it now, since you’ll…” Celeste conjured a look of pity, and her frown down-twisted into looking like she smelled rotten fish.    
  
    “I won’t be part of the family,” Veronica nodded, understanding at last. For no reason, the memory of the first time Duncan took Veronica to the Kane’s country club came to the forefront of Veronica’s mind. Wallace had spent the whole day before, teasing her that she was going to have to eat scones and drink tea with her pinky out, with some horrifically ugly sweater draped over her shoulders, and when Veronica stepped onto the grounds of the club, it was clear that it was a pinkies out affair, and she was really too much thumb for the Kanes. Duncan always managed it, her relationship with Celeste, and pulling the engagement ring off her finger, Veronica figured that was one more part of her life that no longer existed. “Why couldn’t we ever be friends, Celeste?” Veronica asked, honestly, in a quiet voice.    
  
    “A mother wants what’s best for her child, Veronica,” Celeste’s voice false-sweetened again, like a smiling snake.    
  
   In the back of her head, Veronica was sorry for Celeste. No family left, a big, empty house to go home to.  _ At least I have my dad and his dog, _ Veronica tried to see the silver lining, and tried to ignore the way her ring finger suddenly felt naked, felt too exposed. Right after the engagement, she’d gotten used to the extra weight of the ring, and with it gone, it was another thing to miss.    
  
    “And I wasn’t it for Duncan?” Veronica kept following Celeste’s bouncing ball; she’d never be  Kane, and with Duncan gone, she wouldn’t even get to try to be one. She could stop trying to be one.    
  
    “I guess we’ll never know,” Celeste softened genuinely, and pressed the ring into her jacket pocket. “Was there anything else you wanted to discuss?” With an easy sweep of her signature, she bought them lunch, and Veronica figured she already surpassed the most unpleasant parts of the meal.    
  
    “I went to handle Duncan’s accounts with the bank, and apparently he had an account with ten million dollars in it.” Saying it outloud, Veronica felt ridiculous. They were going to be married, like husband-and-wife, forever-and-ever type married, and now she wasn’t engaged, he wasn’t alive, and there was this big secret looming over her. “So, that’s something, I guess? We… I’m not his wife, the money’s yours, I was just…” Eyeing her empty hand again, Veronica shook her head. “I mean, why didn’t he tell me about it? Where did that money even come from? Ten million dollars, that-”   
  
    Veronica saw Celeste’s face, and she didn’t look surprised at all to hear Veronica’s fun fact.    
  
    “I told him not to tell you,” she admitted, taking a sip of her water and straightening her skirt under the table. “When we lost Jake to cancer, that money was put aside for Duncan, and I didn’t want it to change things between the two of you, and I recommended he not tell you about it.”    
  
    “Like, ever?” Veronica asked, blinking her annoyance. “We were going to be married, that’s a pretty big thing not to tell me; I trusted him, and you, and…” she cut off her own sputtering, and took a deep breath. “I really hate scones,” she admitted, seemingly out of the blue to Celeste, and got up and left the lunch. It was the only thing she could think of to do, so she did it.    
  


* * *

  
    “You’re  _ joking, _ she asked for the ring?”    
  
    When Logan came out of the shower and found Veronica furiously chipping away at a pint of ice cream, he sat at the kitchen table and decided to ask what Celeste wanted. Hearing the story according to Veronica, who was telling her story between bites of ice cream and spontaneous swearing, Logan could believe Celeste Kane wanted the ring back, and he could even understand a little, since it was another connection to Duncan and the rest of her family. Two weeks before the wedding date, though? Logan sank into the kitchen chair and shook his head.    
  
    “Celeste Kane had the stones to ask for the family jewels back,” he couldn’t hold back a laugh, he really tried to but he couldn’t contain it. And when Veronica’s eyes bulged incredulously at his laughter, Logan found himself laughing harder, and eventually she smiled, too.    
  
    “You don’t have to make everything sound so dirty,” she shot him a glare for good measure, because on top of a really sucky day, Veronica wasn’t about to keep bonding with Logan Echolls. “Plus, another bad part of this bad-parts-only day, she made me so mad that I forgot to ask about the payments,” throwing her hands up at herself, Veronica knew she couldn’t call Celeste about the money, again.    
  
    “Payments?” Logan asked, suddenly sober from his fit of laughter.    
  
    Veronica sighed, with the mystery of the ten million dollars solved, she didn’t mean to share all of the story with Logan.    
  
    “I have to handle all of Duncan’s affairs, and the lawyer told me about an account in his name, that apparently had ten million dollars in it from Jake’s death,” Veronica threw her spoon in the sink, and watched Logan nod. “Apparently, Celeste swore him to secrecy, I’m assuming to make sure I wasn’t some two-bit gold-digging-”   
  
   “Easy, now,” Logan interrupted her with a smirk.    
  
   “But the  _ account _ made two big payments each month, and I don’t think they’re business payments. I forgot to ask Celeste what  _ they _ were about.” Leaning her elbows down on the kitchen table, Veronica ran her hands through her hair, and realized she’d finally done the impossible and silenced Logan Echolls. “You know what they are?” She asked, looking to him.    
  
    “I don’t…” Logan shook his head, “I don’t know anything for sure,” he held his hands up in a classic  _ don’t shoot _ position, suddenly feeling like the messenger that always got shot. “Give me a couple days, I’ll handle it.” He nodded, meeting her eyes. “Seriously, I’ll take care of it, okay? I’ll make a couple phone calls, and tell you what I find out.”    
  
    Folding her arms over her chest, Veronica sighed. This is why she wasn’t bonding with Logan Echolls, this was why she’d never liked him.    
  
    “What is this about, Logan?” She asked, “I still have all the passwords for my dad’s PI accounts,” Veronica threatened, body tense with a fresh round of secrets.    
  
   “No,  _ no, _ relax Nancy Drew, it’s nothing… it’s nothing too terrible, if it’s what I think it is,” Logan assured her; well, he tried, because Veronica didn’t look very assured.  _ “Two _ payments every month you said, though?” He clarified, folding his hands together on the table. Logan was sure he knew about the one, he was positive. But another… presented some unpleasant questions, and Logan knew he couldn’t ask Duncan, anymore. But neither could Veronica.    
  
   “Oh, god,  _ what  _ is this about?” Veronica asked, the taste of dread already settling in the back of her throat.    
  
    “I’ll make you a deal,” Logan leaned up, and smiled. “Give me 48 hours, 48 hours where you don’t ask anything about this, you do nothing and pretend you know nothing-”   
  
   “I  _ do _ know nothing!” Veronica interjected, with a huff.    
  
    “Give me 48 hours, to solve the mystery myself, and I’ll tell you everything when I’m finished.” Extending his hand out to her, to shake and make the  _ deal, _ Logan met her eyes again, “Let me do this for you, let me make up for the funeral,” he said, and watched her roll her eyes.    
  
    In almost the six years since she’d met him, Veronica didn’t think she’d ever seen that expression on his face. It was almost pleading, and definitely disconcerting.    
  
    “48 hours, I don’t do anything about this, and in 48 hours you’ll tell all?” She asked, her hand hovering over his, but not shaking just yet.    
  
    “I’ll sing like a canary,” Logan smiled, innocently, but unknowingly tasted the same dread in his mouth.    
  
    “Deal,” Veronica nodded, and shook his hand. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :! thanks for reading!


	6. The First 24

  
  
    Veronica rolled onto her side, brushing hair from her face, with a sigh. The digital clock on the nightstand didn’t comfort her- 3:28 am, and she wasn’t sure she’d gotten any sleep yet. With another sigh, she sat up and decided to let herself give in to insomnia. Apparently, it was time to get up.   
  
    Making herself a cup of tea, Veronica noticed her pull-out couch was not pulled out, and the apartment was empty except for her. Any questions she hoped to get Logan to answer after his first twenty hours of stall time died in the silence of the apartment. Still and quiet. Lonely. Wrapping her arms around herself, Veronica stared at the duffle bag she’d never emptied from her stay at the hospital after the accident. Her father had come running to her side, prepared, of course- with pajamas, comforts from home, and what looked like all of her medical records since birth.   
  
    He’d gotten the police report for her, too, the accident report, and Veronica found it stashed under her hospital-wear. Smoothing the paper against the kitchen countertop, Veronica’s eyes skimmed over details about road conditions, traffic conditions, notes about impact points, and survivors. Survivors.   
  
    Not a stranger to grief, Veronica knew that _probably,_ one day her quiet, empty-feeling apartment would go back to just feeling like her apartment. But reading about the accident, every one of her heartbeats sounded so loud in the empty apartment, she was glad when a key in the door made her jump.   
  
    “You’re still up?” Logan caught himself whispering. He’d prepared himself to get ready for bed in still silence, and Veronica sitting up drinking tea threw him.   
  
    “Sort of,” Veronica shrugged, turning her attention back to the duffle bag. Under the pajamas, was a clear evidence bag of Duncan’s personal belongings. His watch, keys, cellphone, and wallet. All that survived the crash with Veronica, all they could pull out for her to hold onto. Swiping her cheeks dry, Veronica took the watch from the plastic, and turned it over in her fingers. “He would’ve wanted you to keep this,” she offered it to Logan, holding it out to him.   
  
    “And he would’ve wanted _you_ to keep your ring,” Logan grumbled, meeting her eyes. “You okay?” He asked, taking the watch from her, smoothing his thumb against the band.   
  
    Veronica went back to Duncan’s belongings, feeling the plain, black leather of his wallet. She found a picture of herself in it, and one of Jake Kane, and a small picture of a tinier version of Duncan and Logan, arms slung over each other, smiling at the camera with matching grins that had gaps from missing baby teeth.   
  
    “I think I owe you an apology, Logan,” Veronica said, eyeing the creases in the photographs, the thinned out corners.   
  
    “I already forgave you for leaving the toilet seat down,” Logan flashed Veronica a different grin from the one in the picture, no gaps in his teeth- more lines around the corners of his mouth.   
  
    “I never understood why he was friends with you,” she admitted, looking back at the picture. “But I guess I never got the whole story, huh?” She asked, looking over at him. In the time since Duncan’s death, since the accident she’d been reading the report about, Veronica found herself having to subdue a lot of her core emotions. She was somebody’s grieving partner, somebody’s almost-lost daughter, somebody’s best friend. With Celeste piling on, between cancelling a wedding, dealing with her own mortality, grieving her loss and feeling it fresh every time she was alone in her own bed, Veronica realized one of the only people she was still being herself around was Logan. Her dad expected her to fall to pieces every time he almost went back to normal, and Wallace was suffocating her with trying to help, trying to _be_ there for her when she just wanted to shut down and know the truth, already. Veronica just wanted some answers, about why the accident happened, about how Duncan could just _leave._   
  
     “I was in bed, thinking about how angry I was, how upset I am, that Duncan left me alone to deal with all of this, all of it, his mother, and the money, and the secrets. I couldn’t believe he’d _leave_ me to deal with all of it on my own, with no warning, no indication of-”   
  
    Duncan’s cell phone vibrated, interrupting Veronica’s tearful frustrations, and she blinked at the name on the screen that she didn’t recognize.   
  
    Reaching over the counter, Logan pressed to ignore the call, and cleared his throat.   
  
    “I still need another day,” Logan went back to whispering, and made himself look at the questions on Veronica’s face. He watched her struggle with them, and take a deep breath.   
  
    “I couldn’t believe he’d leave me on my own to figure out ten million dollars, and have all these questions go unanswered, and then I realized,” Veronica continued like the phone never rang, “that this is why you’re still here, isn’t it? This is why you haven’t gone back to LA, this is why you’re asking me to wait to look into all this stuff, this is why you’re staying on my couch instead of some ritzy suite at the Neptune Grand.” Veronica huffed a sigh when Logan’s face went unreadable. “You’re here, cleaning up after him.”   
  
    Logan half-rolled his eyes, thinking that was it in its crudest form.   
  
    “I always promised DK that… if anything ever happened, I’d look after you. Help you, with whatever you needed.” Over cold beers and slightly charred burgers on his back deck forever ago, he’d made Duncan that promise. In return, Duncan promised to let Logan throw the bachelor party. “Guess that’s goodnight, then?” Logan said, shaking himself from his own memory.   
  
    “You expect me to just go back to bed, and pretend Duncan’s phone doesn’t have a notification about ten missed calls from a girl named Meg, that I’ve never heard of?” Veronica’s mouth felt drier acknowledging the call. One missed call was a butt dial from some old girlfriend who still had Duncan in her contacts. Ten missed calls? Was someone wondering where Duncan was.   
  
    “Maybe it’s a man named, Meg. And tell me, all these years, what did you think ‘ _so we have a deal,’_ meant?” Logan tried to joke, even as it decidedly felt flat, even to him. “Do you trust me?” Ready to blame latent grief and sleep deprivation for making him ask the question, Logan thought he saw Veronica relax, a little.   
  
    “About as far as I can throw you,” Veronica shot him a pained grin. She trusted Duncan, though, and wasn’t sure where that had landed her. She was physically restraining herself from redialing people named Meg, and wondering about secret not-so-small fortunes. As far as Veronica could tell, _trust_ hadn’t done her any favors.   
  
    “Eh, I bet you’re stronger than you look,” Logan shrugged, and took the glare he could get. He saw Veronica’s concentrated effort to not look down at the counter, not at the phone, not at the accident report, and Logan missed his best friend. He wished he hadn’t made the deal with Veronica, and he wished he hadn’t had to keep his promise to Duncan.   
  
    “Tomorrow?” Veronica asked, meeting Logan’s eyes. _Tomorrow you’ll tell me what this is all about?_   
  
    “See, when two people _agree_ on something, and then they _shake hands_ …” Trailing off at her frown, Logan nodded, and fought the sudden lump in his throat. “Tomorrow. Good night.”   
  
    “Goodnight, Logan,” Veronica nodded back, went back to her room, flicked the light off, and tried to go back to sleep trying to picture a man named Meg.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i was /hoping/ you guys wouldn't recognize it for another few chapters and i could get all mysteries written and solved first, but i guess if you guys already /do/ recognize it then it's no big deal to reveal that this is actually an existing au and a premise and set up borrowed from the movie Catch and Release. some details are different, and some bigger things are different. but, i'd ask if you /haven't/ heard of it, that you actually wait to look it up/watch becaaaause i don't want the real thing to ruin some of the surprises of this au. i promise we're getting to the big stuff, and hopefully all your questions will be answered. ALSO sorry there was such a gap between postings, thanksgiving and black friday and midterms kinda made for a hell of a week. thanks!!


	7. the Lillies Kane

    Knuckles rapping on Veronica’s bedroom door too early made her groan and turn over.   
  
    “Go away, Logan, I’m busy having a nightmare,” Veronica grumbled, and closed her eyes again.   
  
    “Try again, V,” Weevil knocked again, with a little more force. It was two pm, and Logan Echolls wasn’t even in the apartment when Weevil used Keith’s key to get in.   
  
    “Dad sent you?” Veronica finally appeared at the door, yawning her disapproval at Weevil.   
  
    “With pancakes,” Weevil smiled uneasily, holding up an IHOP takeout bag.   
  
    “You’re a prince among my dad’s henchmen,” Veronica grabbed the bag, and pushed past Weevil all the way to the kitchen, still rubbing sleep from her eyes. The nightmare she actually _had_ been having, was slowly fading from the front of her mind, and a big whiff of pancake syrup buried it deeper.   
  
    “You mean, temps,” Weevil corrected, with an eyeroll. Veronica was tough, he’d known her for a couple of years, he was sure she could pull through anything. But watching her fumble through the cutlery drawer and pull out two forks, sleep still in her eyes well into the afternoon… Weevil started having his doubts. When she looked up at him, it was like she was looking through him, and it unsettled him.   
  
    “Whatever you’re putting on your business card, these days,” Veronica said, with a shrug, and shoved a fork across the table at Weevil.   
  
    “Are you ever coming back to work?” Weevil folded his arms at her, and eventually picked up the fork to join her.   
  
    “Boss getting impatient?” Digging into the pancakes, Veronica sighed. “By the way, chocolate chip is good for the widow’s soul.” Dark and grim, it might’ve been, but Veronica _was_ thankful for the pancakes, she thought they made her feel a little more like her old self.   
  
    “Yeah, I bet,” Weevil looked down at the plate and felt his appetite go. “I should get going, and go back to the office now that you’re vertical, and fed. But how are you, V?” He asked, watching her pour the syrup over the pancakes, slowly, and deliberately.   
  
    “Kinda numb, most of the time. Which feels weird, I guess.” She said, answering him honestly, and hoped he wasn’t reporting back to her dad. “Hey, could I ask you a favor?”   
  
    Smiling at last, at the familiarity of it, Weevil nodded, feeling he was on solid ground again.   
  
    “When you get back, use my computer for a background workup on Duncan?” Smoothing her lips into a thin line, Veronica fought a frown at herself. A long time ago, when she’d first met Duncan, first fell in love with him, she tried to make decisions about him based on his actions toward her. She tried not to be suspicious of his past, or of the long hours he worked, she tried trusting that he was the person he appeared to be. But Duncan was dead, and couldn’t answer her questions now, couldn’t face her feeling like that trust was betrayed. Taking a bite of her pancakes, she shrugged off Weevil’s concerned face.   
  
    “V…” Weevil missed the five seconds ago when he thought he was on solid ground. Veronica Mars wanted a background on her dead almost-husband, and Weevil was supposed to just skip off back to the office and pretend that was a good idea?   
  
    “Trust me, you’ll probably know what I’m looking for when you find it.” Shrugging again, she figured the full background would take time, and by the time she had any real information it’d be after Logan’s 48 hour grace period, and she’d be in the clear from violating their deal. “Just find me some dots to connect,” Veronica pushed Weevil, and gave him a small smile when he nodded.   
  
    “I assume we’re not telling Keith about this side project?” Weevil was curious, if this was a closure thing for Veronica, or if there was something worth investigating, because mostly to Weevil, Duncan appeared like every other rich, stale Saltine boyfriend Veronica had over the years. He wondered what kind of skeletons could be in her almost-husbands closet, and why they would still matter after the accident.   
  
    “If he asks, just tell him you’re doing me a favor.” Veronica volunteered, and saw Weevil’s relief at his ready excuse actually being true. “Thanks, Weevil.”   
  
    “When you’re done with your mourning period and back in the office, you owe me one, Mars.” Saluting his goodbye, Weevil straightened his leather jacket and went on his way, off to do some skeleton hunting.   
  
    Once Weevil left, Veronica tried to stomach the rest of the chocolate chip pancakes, and then she made herself a pot of coffee. A feeling kicked in, that Veronica had to do something, anything. She vacuumed the living room, cleaned out the fridge… she was thinking about getting down and dirty on all fours to scrub the bathroom’s tile grout clean, until Duncan’s cellphone caught her eye for a second too long, and she couldn’t ignore it any longer. She still had about six hours left on Logan’s clock, but Duncan’s phone was just sitting there.   
  
    Slowly, Veronica stepped to the phone, and took a deep breath. The notification about missed calls was still there, still sending Veronica a message she didn’t comprehend. But underneath the missed calls, was a notification about two voicemails, and Veronica’s stomach turned.   
  
     _Maybe they’re old messages from me,_ she tried to assure herself. Maybe she would hit play, and she’d hear her own voice, yammering on about floral arrangements, or if Duncan had heard from his great-aunt Ruth about coming to the wedding. _Maybe they aren’t that, though,_ a voice in her head countered.   
  
    She could shut off the phone; she could turn it off, watch the screen go black, and love the memory of Duncan the way he was, before car crashes, and before ten million dollar secrets, and before taking off her ring, and before missed calls from Meg. If she shut off the phone, maybe she could pretend like the knot in her stomach was anger from grief, not the increasingly hard to ignore suspicion of betrayal. With her finger hovering between the power button, and the voicemail button, Veronica took a deep breath.   
  
    “Earth to Mars?” Logan called, sweeping in the front door of the apartment. “Veronica…” He eyed the phone in her hand, and the tears welled up against her lashes.   
  
    “I can’t go back to knowing nothing,” Veronica ignored the shake in her voice. “I know something now, and I need to know everything. I loved the Duncan I knew, I would’ve spent the rest of my life with him, I just…” Swallowing the lump in her throat, Veronica shook her head, “I need to know if he was real, cause honestly? It doesn’t seem like it.”.   
  
    “You don’t even know who those voicemails are from,” Logan went to Veronica, and tried to get the phone from her, but pulled back when she went stiff and her chin dropped. “Veronica…”  
  
   “Give me _something,_ Logan,” Veronica sighed, looking tired.   
  
   “I know that one of the payments…” Logan cleared his throat, suddenly feeling strange about airing his best friend’s dirty laundry. “I don’t know how much you know about Lilly’s death…” Taking a small breath, he sat at the kitchen table, and waited for Veronica to sit across from him. “Lilly was amazing; she had this larger than life, grab everything by the balls mentality, and that was… mesmerizing, and always made her fun to be around, but it didn’t always make her safe,” Logan shook his head.   
  
    “What happened?” Veronica asked, resisting the urge to reach for Logan’s hand. When Lilly came up, Duncan and Logan usually clammed up, and Veronica hadn’t heard this much about Lilly Kane in a long time.   
  
    “Lilly wasn’t the only one who died, in that car accident.” Licking his lips, Logan’s throat felt too dry, but he made himself keep talking. “The driver of the other car, was a young mom, on her way home from the graveyard shift when Lilly was on her way home from a party. _We_ were… broken up at the time, and I didn’t go with her, so she had to drive herself home and…” With an uneasy roll of his shoulders, Logan braced himself. “That payment goes to that lady’s kid, sort of like an out-of-court settlement?”   
  
    “Lilly was drunk?” Veronica didn’t feel relieved, obviously, two more young people were dead, but Logan’s confession caught her off guard.   
  
    “Officially, no report was ever filed that confirmed it, but… people at the party told us that she was pretty wasted that night.” Talking over the lump in his throat got easier when Veronica squeezed his hand from across the table.   
  
    “Just because you weren’t there, that didn’t mean she had to drive home, Logan.” Chewing her lip, Veronica felt real sympathy for Celeste, and for Logan, too. ”It was good of the Kanes to look out for that kid.”  
  
    “It was Duncan’s idea,” Logan nodded, “And I’ll make sure that money still goes through,” he said, thinking about Duncan, about Lilly, about grief.   
  
    “That still leaves the other payment,” Veronica said, quietly, and took her hand back, putting it back on Duncan’s cellphone. Knowing more about her fiance after he was dead, was an incredibly unsettling feeling, but she knew there was still more to learn. “I’m gonna listen to the voicemails, now.”   
  
    “Veronica…” Logan shook his head, exhaling a sigh.   
  
    Pressing play, Veronica held her breath.   
  
     _“Hey, sweetie, it’s me, haven’t heard from you in a while, where are you, Duncan? Call me back, love you.”_ The message beeped it’s close, and Veronica ignored her own tears, to hear the next message. _“Hey, Duncan, it’s me, still haven’t heard back from you, it’s been forever since we’ve seen you, honey, call me, okay? We’re worried. Love you.”_ Hands shaking, Veronica ignored Logan’s protests and clicked to hear the next message. _“Duncan? Sweetie, where are you? Hello, call me. Love you, bye.”_ _  
__  
_ “Okay, enough, don’t you think?” Logan took the phone from Veronica, closing the voicemail messages. “That’s enough, Veronica; look, you don’t know the whole story… Meg is…” Trailing off, Logan really wished Duncan had done a lot of things differently. For the first time since Duncan’s death, Logan found himself angry with his best friend. And he also found himself sort of speechless.   
  
     “Who _is she,_ Logan? _Well?_ How could you _possibly_ clean this up for him, how could he…” Veronica felt her voice going high and panicky, and she hated when her voice went high and panicky. The crying stopped when the anger started, and Veronica was ready to feel angry for a  lifetime of lies. “He was gonna marry me, god, I’ve been guilty about spending our last moments fighting about our wedding, and _he_ kept, he kept something like _this;_ what, a girlfriend? _Tell me_ the whole story, Logan,” Veronica ran her hands down her face, trying to escape the wave of nausea that came with hearing the girl’s voice say things like _sweetie_ and _honey_ and _love you._  
  
    “Meg Manning is Duncan’s…” Logan’s thoughts lingered over semantics like terminology. Minimizing Meg Manning to the smallest possible role in Duncan’s life was difficult, and Logan knew the truth would hurt Veronica, just like Duncan knew, too. When he bought himself 48 hours of time, Logan thought that would be enough to figure out how to tell Veronica. With his time up, Logan still hadn’t found a good approach. “She’s the mother of his kid.” Opting to rip the band-aid off in a clean break, Logan exhaled a big breath, as Veronica’s eyes widened at him.   
  
    “Like, Meg Manning gave birth to Duncan’s billy goat?” Veronica sputtered, and suddenly ten million dollars worth of secrets barely even scratched the surface.   
  
    “Not… exactly,” Logan squirmed, braving the fire in Veronica’s eyes; he rubbed the back of his neck, and nodded to himself. “Duncan has a daughter, and Meg is… well, it takes two people to make a baby, and…”  
  
    Veronica’s fists balled, and she uncurled them, smoothing her hands against her thighs.   
  
   “Thanks for the biology lesson, Echolls, how about history, next? I mean… a daughter? Duncan Kane has a _daughter_ that he never found the time to mention, he has some baby mama on the side, like…” Frustrated sobs breaking into her speech, Veronica saw Logan coming around the table for the hug, and she ducked out of it. “How old is she, Logan? How old is his… _daughter?’_  
  
   Duncan had a daughter; Veronica tried to keep breathing, but it was like being at the funeral all over again. Time was slowed down, somehow, like the whole world was in pause, just waiting for her to catch up to reality.   
  
     “Well… the kid’s like… I don’t know… ten? It was… you know, before you, obviously, and I guess Duncan just thought-”  
  
    “I’m gonna stop you.” Clasping her hands tight in her lap, Veronica ignored the misguided look of relief on Logan’s face, and  tried to scrounge up every ounce of decency that was left in her body, but she found it all replaced by seething anger and lots of loathing. “You know, I read somewhere, that _lying_ is bad for your genitals,” Veronica met Logan’s eyes, “because when you lie to me, I _kick_ you in the genitals.” Exhaling a long breath, Veronica shook her head. “How old is the kid, Logan? Every time you lie, your eyes flick down for a second, it’s your _tell,_ it’s how I always run the table on you on poker nights. How old, is Duncan’s _daughter?”_ Voice shaking, Veronica could only think of one moment in her life feeling _this_ betrayed, _this_ heartbroken, and _this_ disappointed, and it was the morning she woke up and her mom was gone..   
  
   “Two and a half,” Logan said, in a whisper, and kept his eyes down as Veronica gasped, and  jumped up from the table, putting space between them as she paced away from him.   
  
    “Two and a half,” Veronica repeated to herself, “two and a half years old. Two and a half years ago, I was waiting on a man to propose to me, and apparently, probably so was the mother of his _kid.”_ Her head spun, trying to rethink their relationship in her head all at once. She went back over the last three and a half years, looking for signs, for clues, for things that she missed that would’ve told her that Duncan was cheating on her, and eventually had a daughter.   
  
    “I know he loved you,” Logan offered, in a quiet voice. “I know Duncan loved you so much,” going to her, and putting his hands on her shoulders, Logan saw in her face that Veronica didn’t believe him. He’d failed Duncan, and they both hurt Veronica, and her face was more closed off to him then, than the time she’d caught him hooking up at her fiance’s funeral.   
  
    “Well, he had a _hell_ of a way of showing it, didn’t he?” They both jumped when Veronica’s voice rose; she hadn’t meant to yell, it just happened. Stepping back from Logan, Veronica thought about the old saying about shooting the messenger. But it was Duncan’s message, and Duncan wasn’t there to take the bullet himself. “Was he ever gonna tell me? We were supposed to be _married,_ and in _love,_ and _happy,_ and we were only gonna be all of those things because I never knew a true thing about him. How unfair is that?”   
  
    “Incredibly unfair,” Logan agreed, that much. Her wrath, he could handle, he was sure of that. “He almost told you, right when he found out about Lilly. He planned on telling you, and then I think… He was too afraid of losing you, Veronica, he just kept it to himself instead.” In another conversation on Logan’s back porch, Duncan confessed to Logan that Meg was pregnant, and Logan remembered feeling sure that Veronica wasn’t gonna be understanding. “Meg was supposed to be a one-time thing, I think he was blowing off steam and-”  
  
    “Am I supposed to feel better, knowing Duncan was too _scared to lose me_ when it came to telling me truth, but he wasn’t too _scared to lose me_ to fuck some…” Veronica ducked her chin at herself, with her cheeks feeling too hot, and her voice rising, again. Another detail of Logan’s explanation caught Veronica’s attention. “Her name is Lilly? Duncan named someone else’s daughter, after…” Her thoughts trailed off to fresh bad places, like the times she remembered Duncan fantasizing about having a little girl with her, and naming their daughter, Lilly. Veronica noticed the bile building in the back of her throat. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna be sick now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whew! some things finally revealed, sorry this chapter accidentally became a monster chapter


	8. I Won't Try Making Sense of You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw for puke mentions, at least in the first couple paragraphs

   Logan’s hand stayed rubbing Veronica’s back, all through her vomiting stage and well into the face-washing stage. Handing her a towel in her own bathroom, Logan watched Veronica’s fingers still trembling, reaching for the plush, white towel and bringing it to her wet face.   
  
    Veronica found that puking her guts out actually did help her feel a little bit better, a little bit calmer. And washing her face definitely helped, cool water forming droplets on her hot cheeks tamped down some of the shock.    
  
    “Stop looking at me the way everyone looks at girls whose boyfriends do terrible things to them,” Veronica said quietly, pressing the towel to her chin, and turning to face the mirror. “I was saying that to both of us,” she added, meeting Logan’s eyes in the mirror.    
  
    “I’m sorry, Veronica,” Logan’s small smile of reassurance flattened into the shrug of a guilty-looking man. This time, he wasn’t apologizing for Duncan or anything Duncan lied about, Logan was apologizing for himself- for being complicit, for being bad at protecting her from all the bad stuff, for being the wrong guy when all she needed to feel better was to yell at the right one. “We all knew you were too good for him, anyway,” he said, his voice more honest than humorous, shrugging off the feeling of betraying his best friend.    
  
    “Celeste didn’t,” Veronica shocked herself with her own small smile. “I didn’t,” she realized, breathlessly, shaking her head at herself. At the way Logan’s face fell further, Veronica shrugged, “I mean, he was always kind of perfect, you know? So I always  _ tried  _ to be, I mean…”    
  
    Rubbing his hand to Veronica’s back again, Logan shook his head.    
  
    “He was my best friend, in the whole world,” his voice threatened to crack, so Logan cleared his throat, “and it still doesn’t feel real that he’s gone. But he wasn’t perfect, by any means.”    
  
    Standing in the realization of that, on top of everything else, Veronica felt different. She felt changed.   
  
    “I need to know everything,” Veronica reminded them both, with a deep breath. She assumed she had the big, bold print headlines: Duncan was a secret millionaire, with a secret mistress, and a secret lovechild, but the details she didn’t know were already starting to eat at her. “And I asked Weevil to do a full background, I should have it in a couple days.”    
  
    Closing his eyes for a minute, Logan took his hand back from Veronica and exhaled a quiet sigh.    
  
     “Can I ask a possibly outlandish question?” He asked, running his hand through his hair. “Why? I mean… Duncan’s…” Logan waved his hand in a gesture, “You know, and how does it do anything but  _ hurt  _ you to know all this stuff now? How does it help?” Genuinely asking, Logan tried to understand why Veronica would shove her own nose in all the bad stuff. He didn’t want to be the one to hurt her with bad news, but she kept asking questions to get answers she wouldn’t like.    
  
    Turning to face him, Veronica folded her arms across her chest, leaning back against the sink.    
  
    “Definitely outlandish,” Veronica shook her head, looking up at him. How did it help her,  _ now?  _ “It just does,” she shrugged, “I can’t believe that I didn’t know it  _ before, _ and so now’s the only chance I have, I guess.” Without Logan, Veronica could get her own answers, she knew that. “ _ We _ always talked about naming our daughter Lilly,” Veronica turned away from Logan again, quiet, slow-building rage replacing shock, finally. Veronica found that the anger came in waves, almost like the grief. One minute, none of it felt real, it all felt laughably impossible, and the next minute, Veronica felt a dry heave creep back up. “And I guess it could be coincidence, but I found out I couldn’t have kids about three years ago. Duncan said it didn’t matter to him, but…”    
  
    “Then it didn’t,” Logan said, forcefully. “I don’t even have all the answers you want, Veronica,” suddenly feeling sorry about that, too, he rubbed the back of his neck. “I  _ tried _ , you know, to get more information from Meg-”   
  
    “You talked to her?” A lot of new questions formed in Veronica’s mind. Meg Manning, the secret, was out in the open, but Meg Manning the person? Veronica didn’t know anything about her.   
  
    “This morning,” Logan gave a sullen nod, “I wanted time to talk to her, before I told you anything that wasn’t true.”    
  
    “Like that Duncan’s kid was ten?” Veronica’s eyebrow challenged him, but Logan ducked his head quickly.    
  
    “I just wanted to make sure that  _ she _ was sure, before you had to deal with all of this…” Shaking his head, Logan wondered if he should’ve left the door open on a lot of Duncan’s secrets, if he should’ve left Veronica an option that all of this was unconfirmed and could’ve all been untrue.    
  
    “And?” Veronica blinked in the mirror, looking at herself in that sad way, again. “She was sure, I guess?” Looking to Logan, Veronica didn’t need another confirmation. “What else did she say?” Biting her lip to keep the tremble out, Veronica knew she needed to know.    
  
    “She didn’t know about you, about… pretty much anything about Duncan’s life with you. She knew he lived in Neptune, and sometimes worked out of LA because that’s where they always… met, but that was about it. She cried, too- when I told her about Duncan, about you, about the accident.” Stretching his shoulders to fight discomfort, Logan looked to Veronica and saw fresh tears in her eyes.    
  
    “I just can’t believe I could’ve been so stupid,” she shook her head when Logan opened his mouth to protest. “There’s literally nothing you can say, I just feel like the biggest idiot on the planet right now, and I’m so embarrassed that I didn’t even  _ suspect  _ anything or have  _ any _ inclination… I mean, a  _ kid? _ He had a whole  _ kid,  _ and I didn’t know at all.” Pressing the towel to her cheeks, Veronica tried to swallow the angry lump in her throat. “You know, this is actually my fault,” her voice cracked, “I mean, with everyone else I’m… I’m this hypervigilant person, you know? I’m on my guard, I protect myself from stuff like this, I  _ expect _ stuff like this… With Duncan I just…” Veronica deflated, “I just loved him, and I got sloppy.” Her chin dropped, and Logan choked back his own tears.    
  
    “Veronica, Duncan made his own choices, and a lot of them were wrong, but he did those things, you didn’t do them to yourself. You’re allowed to not be  _ hypervigilant  _ with somebody that you love, you’re allowed to let your guard down.” Logan was angry with Duncan again, and angry with himself, too. He pulled Veronica into a messy hug, with her arms tucked against him, oddly. “You should get some sleep,” he whispered after a few still seconds, knowing it was late and they were both exhausted, in a lot of ways.    
  
    “I want the couch tonight,” Veronica abruptly untangled herself from Logan’s arms, surprised that she found comfort in him, on her second-worst day. Smoothing her hands down her face, Veronica finally let herself leave the bathroom, and heard Logan following.   
  
    “The torture device?” He clarified, watched her chin go high, finally. She looked more like herself, instantly.    
  
    “I know you said they were only together in LA, but…” Veronica trailed off, rubbing her eyes again. “I just can’t crawl into our bed and pretend like I’m not furious with him,” she admitted, feeling a watered-down guilty. Immediately after the accident, Veronica begged the universe to be playing some sort of joke, to bring Duncan back to her and fix her life around him, again. But after knowing Duncan’s secrets, after learning about the real Duncan Kane, Veronica felt guilty that she wanted him back to scream at  him, to throw her disappeared engagement ring at him, and to be able to storm out on him. It was odd to be so angry with a ghost.   
  
  “Could I… get you anything?” Logan felt stupid asking  _ that _ question. He remembered watching people ask her that at the funeral, when the floor had dropped out of her life, people were asking if she wanted some water. “Water, or something?” He tried, despite shaking his head at himself.    
  
    “You know what the irony is?” Veronica asked, another set of tears lining her lashes, “If he had told me… all of this,” she waved her hand between them, “I  _ would _ have left him, I would have.” She fixed her eyes on the carpet. “The wedding would have been off, we would have broken up, but…” She brushed her knuckles at her chin, sweeping away a tear, “Then we wouldn’t have been driving to the wedding caterers, we never would have crashed, and he’d still be alive. The wedding would have been cancelled, and we wouldn’t have been on  _ that _ road, arguing about wedding playlists, and he wouldn’t have-”    
  
    Crossing the room to her, Logan pressed her into another hug, a real one, this time, feeling her arms curl around his middle.    
  
    “He made his choices,” Logan repeated, needing to believe that much was true. “After Lilly’s crash… I spent a lot of time in counseling, I don’t know if you know that. But I just felt like… if I could’ve been at that party, if we weren’t broken up at the time, if I gave her a ride that night…You know, if any of those variables had been different, she would be alive.” Logan resisted the urge to smooth a tear from Veronica’s cheek, he watched it fall to her collarbone. “But Lilly made her own choices, too, and I had to accept that.” Pulling back from Veronica, Logan told himself it was time for both of them to take a break, to take a break from crying and feeling guilty and feeling  _ worse, _ and it was time to just get some sleep.    
  
    “Yeah, well, I’ll let you know when I move past the anger phase.” Veronica sniffled, doubting she ever would. Loneliness, and grief, had been cold. Anger? Veronica was willing to try letting anger keep her warm at night, even if she  _ was _ angry with a ghost.    
  
    “Please, keep me posted,” Logan offered her a tiny, reassuring smirk, and felt like less of a failure when she nodded at it. “Goodnight, Veronica.”   
  
    “Logan?”   
  
    “Yeah?”    
  
    “Remember that time a couple of days ago, when you said Duncan’s secrets weren’t that bad?” Veronica brushed hair behind her ear, taking a deep breath.    
  
    “I guess I was lying, huh?” Logan’s mouth twisted into another frown, knowing he’d probably hurt her by saying that. Truthfully, he’d been hoping to be wrong, about all of it; he’d hoped it was a whole, big mistake, and Veronica would never have to deal with it. But he’d known that was a long shot.   
  
    “I knew you were; I knew when you said it, your eyes did the thing, and I knew it was going to be awful.” Veronica could still taste the puke in the back of her throat, “Well, not as awful as it was, but I knew it was going to be bad,” she added, and Logan’s snort surprised them both.    
  
     “Well, you were definitely too smart for Duncan, that’s for sure,” he smiled, meeting her eyes.    
  
     “Well,  _ that _ I did know,” Veronica turned off the light, and laid across the couch in the dark, with her stomach still churning, but her mind occupied with a lot less questions than the night before. Knowing the truth, and dealing with the truth were two different things, and Veronica promised herself she was finished not-dealing with Duncan’s truth. Closing her eyes, she let tears come, mourning her old life, again. Losing Duncan once, had hurt. Losing him again, even to his own secrets, his own demons, was still painful, and letting herself cry in the dark and silence felt like starting to deal with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a /lot/ of the sad stuffs over, this is gonna lighten up a little bit i promise :P


	9. Keep On Keeping On

    Tapping her fingertips against the plastic-wood paneling of her desk, Veronica promised herself she was ready to go back to work. She was ready to start picking up the pieces of her Duncan-less life, and ready to get herself back to normal. Back to anything  _ resembling _ normal. Shaking her head at herself, she lectured in her own head. Everyone else was worried about Veronica-Mars-grief-stricken-widow with the possible head injury. Three days since Logan Echolls broke the really big news, Veronica waited herself out-- she waited for the rest of the shock to seep away, slowly replaced by sadness and mostly anger. She should’ve  _ known _ herself, her mind continued, she should’ve known that the only thing that ever pulled her out of pits of darkness before, was work.    
  
    “Veronica?” Weevil asked, blinking at her like he’d been standing there awhile waiting for her to notice.    
  
    Tapping her fingertips against the desk, Veronica nodded to herself- pulling her thoughts back from Duncan, again, and doubled her focus on Weevil.    
  
    “I heard you,” she lied, “What’s up?”    
  
    “Are you sure you want to be back from leave? You still have time, you could take a few more days, keep clearing your head and catching up on your DVR?” Weevil asked, holding a file in his hands like it was almost too hot to really touch.    
  
    “I’m all caught up,” Veronica nodded, her eyes on the file, and waited for Weevil to sit.   
  
    “That full background.” Weevil dropped his voice, and sat in the chair across from her desk. “Did you want it today?”    
  
_ Ah, and the Duncan Kane mystery saga continues,  _ Veronica barely held back the eye roll at herself.    
  
   “Did something pop?” She asked, looking to Weevil for truth. Formally Eli Navarro, Veronica thought their nicknames kept their relationship light; fun. Casual. She could be casual. Did Duncan know that about her? Her causal side. Another thought snuck in from somewhere, asking if Logan knew Veronica could be casual, either.    
  
    “You think I looked at a file that personally pertains to a certain blonde with a certain taser?” Weevil tried to smile. Everyone wanted to see her back in the office, but they wanted to see her back and okay, and from all the staring in space and all the background checks on her dead fiance, Weevil wasn’t sure okay was within reach just yet. “Do I have the word  _ stupid _ tattooed on my forehead?”   
  
    “I’m not sure it would match that shirt,” Veronica shrugged. “At the very least, you looked to find what I was looking for,” Veronica tried a smile, too, but felt it fall flat on her face. Weevil had certainly never looked less convinced.    
  
    “You could just let the man die, V,” Weevil suggested, his voice anything but casual then, even using her nickname. “Sorry,” he apologized, “I have another case you could work for me, we could trade, you know? I’ll take your shit, you take mine?” Asking with a heap of false hope in his voice, Weevil knew the girl he was talking to, and relented when she shook her head. “You’re right, you keep your shit. You want the Cliffnotes? Basically…”    
  
    Veronica winced when Weevil did.    
  
    “I already found out he had ten million dollars, oh and a kid, who’s two and a half, with a woman living in LA. So, probably whatever you have left for me, is small potatoes, yeah?” Veronica nodded Weevil along, and watched his mouth drop open like something out of a black-and-white comedy.    
  
    “I was going to tell you… the best I can find on the Kane Industries LA office, is an apartment in company’s name, I don’t think he ever really…” Weevil trailed off, regretting ever doing anything for Veronica Mars. The look on her face either meant she was crushed or wanted to crush something, and Weevil wanted to step back regardless. “I’m sorry, V.”    
  
    “Not only was Duncan screwing around when he was working in LA, apparently he was  _ just _ screwing around because he never worked in LA?” Veronica huffed out a long sigh. She guessed the apartment was linked to the Kane company, which is why rent or holding ties never showed up on his personal accounts. If she’d been waiting for a sign that Duncan intentionally set out to make sure that Veronica never found out about  _ Lilly Kane _ or Meg Manning, Veronica figured she got the thing she’d been waiting for. For years, Duncan had been lying to her about where he was on weekends, what work he was doing… how much money had, how many kids he had. Feeling her cheeks warm, Veronica tried to keep her breath steady.   
  
    “He really had a kid?” Weevil asked, still catching up. Over the years, he’d teased Veronica about having shit taste in boyfriends. Shaking his head, Weevil felt sorry to be right.    
  
    “Who had a kid?” Keith knocked a knuckle on the doorjam to Veronica’s office, on the tailend of a conversation Veronica chided herself for having in public. Weevil would pick Keith’s crosshairs over Veronica’s, any day of the week, but he didn’t want to intrude on a conversation he knew was about to be rocky, at best. Somewhere, if Weevil’s grandma was right, Duncan Kane was in some heaven, and Weevil bet his ears were burning.   
  
    “I have an elsewhere to be,” Weevil ducked his head, and tore past Keith, almost feeling heat from Veronica’s glare at the back of his neck.    
  
    “Who has a kid? Somebody’s cheating husband pump one in a jilted lover?” Keith guessed, too far to read the file upside down on his daughter’s desk.    
  
    “Actually… that case is a little more…  _ personal. _ ” Veronica smoothed her hands in her lap, and found herself in an uncomfortable position; the exact position Duncan had put Logan Echolls in. Twisting in her office chair, Veronica found herself the keeper of Duncan’s secrets, silently mulling over how much to divulge. “It’s Duncan,” Veronica’s voice broke, and the mulling stopped. “Duncan has a kid, a two year old or something, with a girl in LA. I was an idiot, he never worked in LA, he had a secret ten million dollars, and a secret love child who he named after his dead sister who killed herself and someone else driving drunk, and now the mother of the child knows about me, I know about her, and god, I’m so  _ angry _ with Duncan,” standing to press her face into her father’s shoulder, Veronica felt like a little kid. She felt like she was small, again, wanting her dad to fix problems that he couldn’t possibly fix.    
  
    “Okay,” Keith whispered into his daughter’s hair, “Okay, it’s gonna be okay, you’re not an idiot, you could never be stupid, Veronica. Veronica, listen to me.” Running a hand down his face, Keith tried to process. He knew people did terrible things to each other; people lied to each other, cheated on each other, had kids with other people. He just never pictured anyone doing those terrible things to Veronica; he never pictured Duncan Kane doing those things to his daughter. “Honey, this is not your fault, Veronica.” Years of public and private detective work churned out questions in Keith’s mind.    
  
   Questions he would’ve asked a client, like if DNA confirmed a match? Or how Veronica found out about Duncan’s cheating? But pressing his daughter into his chest, Keith didn’t want answers, he just wanted his daughter to be okay.    
  


* * *

  
  
    Dropping her keys onto the kitchen table, Veronica just glared Logan’s way, at first.    
  
    “Did you go to work today?” He asked, leaning down on the kitchen counter.    
  
     “ _ Some _ of us aren’t born with assets ready to blow through,” she smiled, “I had to,” Veronica said, softly, ignoring the way Logan’s face was just waiting to say something smart to her.    
  
    “I told you I’d help with the rent, and oh yeah, your father always struck me as a real whip cracker, I’m sure you just didn’t have any personal days left.” Logan called bullshit, without calling it, and watched Veronica pour two drinks with her back to him.    
  
    “I had to go to work so I would stop moping around in my own sadness.” She countered, holding out one drink to him. Her feet had to be moving for her to move forward, and that was her new plan. “My dad knows about Duncan,” Veronica added, and Logan detected a hint of a grimace on her lips.    
  
    “Is he looking into resurrection spells, so he can shoot Duncan himself?”  Logan tried his crooked smirk, but his eyes were on the floor.    
  
    With a half-hearted snort, Veronica shook her head. “No, but I might, I’ll put it on my to-do list.” She swallowed from her drink, and let the sting hit the back of her throat. “Hey, I’m sorry, by the way,” Veronica started, and licked her lips.   
  
    “For eating the last of the ice cream before I could even think about reaching for a spoon?” Logan joked.   
  
    “I did what you did, today,” Veronica smoothed her lips into a straight line, and then relaxed herself, again. “Telling my dad about Duncan was… strange and difficult.” Drinking from her glass, Veronica met Logan’s eyes.  “Are  _ you _ ever going back to work?”    
  
   Easing himself into the kitchen chair, Logan smiled into his drink. A year ago, this civil a conversation would’ve been utterly unthinkable, let alone hard to imagine. In all the time he’s known her, Veronica Mars was a force to be reckoned with, and he kind of liked doing the reckoning, even when it made her dislike him. Having drinks, all cordial and sad and sweet? With a watery, barely-stable smile stuck on her mouth? Logan drained his glass and held it out for more.    
  
    “I think I’m gonna retire,” he said, thanking her with a nod for the added booze to his glass. “I guess you never know how much time you got left, and I… it’s possible I’ve wasted some of that time.” Shrugging, he sipped more slowly, glad when Veronica sat across from him.    
  
    “I told the cops I didn’t remember a lot about the accident, because I don’t,” Veronica scooted in her seat, angling the bottle between them on the kitchen table. “But I remember the paramedics cutting me out of my seat, at least I think I do, and I remember not being sure if I was alive.”  Even the memory was fuzzy in her head, like it was a dream, or somebody else’s story. She remembered being tugged, looking back at Duncan, and trying to make sense out of a nonsense situation.   
  
    “Jesus, Veronica,” Logan shook his head, running his knuckles across his chin.    
  
   “Were you ever almost-married?” Veronica asked, pouring more into her glass, and throwing Logan with the radical shift in conversational topics.    
  
    Slumping in his seat a little, Logan mustered a shrug.    
  
    “I probably would’ve married Lilly if she let me,” he admitted, knowing she never would’ve let him.    
  
    “Do you think there were things you didn’t know about her?” Veronica asked, her chin asking too, just tilting away from Logan. “Like, big things?” Her voice asked the question non-commitallly, but Logan took a deep breath.    
  
     “I loved Lilly, and she wasn’t perfect, but most of the time, she wasn’t all that complicated,” Logan squirmed, and sipped from his glass. The past felt like it was circling him, lately. “She cheated, sure, but I pretty much always knew about it, I think. I’m sure there were some things I didn’t know about,” he shrugged. Probably other times she partied too hard, or guys she was with that he never guessed.    
  
    “But it was predictable stuff?” Nodding to herself, into her own glass, Veronica sighed. “You know, in hindsight, I think I knew  _ something _ was up, with Duncan spending so much time in LA. But I liked working the bad cases on the weekends he was away, so I never pushed him too hard about how much time he was gone.” Staring at the brown liquid in her drink, Veronica just nodded to herself. It was a thought she hadn’t been letting herself think, but with Logan she just let it spill out.    
  
    “The bad cases?” Logan squinted at her.    
  
    “Did Lilly know everything about you?” Veronica shook her head, pushed past Logan’s question like she hadn’t heard him.    
  
    “The big stuff?” He asked, meeting her eyes across the table.    
  
     Nodding, Veronica smiled sad when Logan nodded back at her. Silence growing between them for a moment, Veronica almost felt it get comfortable, before Logan reached his hand across the table, with his palm open.   
  
     “What do you wanna know, Veronica?” He smiled, and felt relieved when Veronica reached for him, too, just placing her palm across his.    
  
    For a moment, one of the first moments since she’d been cut out of the passenger seat of Duncan’s car, Veronica felt her mind go quiet; her fears, and curiosities, all stilled for a moment, while her heart thumped in her chest.   
  
    “How do you feel about mountain lions?” Veronica asked, with a joking smile, pulling her hand back from the too-serious moment to rest it on her glass.    
  
    “Mountain lions?” Logan balked, his smile gone unsure, still watching the way her fingertips were curved around her drink.   
  
    “I figure somebody should tell Celeste Kane she has a grandkid, I’m just asking if you’d like to do the honors.”    
  
    Mid-sip, Logan laughed, shaking his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> welp! disappeared for a little there but i graduated college, had two christmas eves and a christmas day, not to mention a family reunion and ton of other bullshit. glad i got this posted for the last day of the year so i could tell you all to have a nice new year's!!


	10. in the Lion's Den

    “How could you let this happen?” Celeste demanded, pulling a face with her brows knit up that almost made Veronica think of Duncan. It was the face he pulled when they were fighting.    
  
    Coffee long gone cold in Mrs. Kane’s best guest china, Veronica couldn’t help but tighten her grip on the little cup in her hand. Back in the Kanes’ home, Veronica thought she could see through the splendor, right down deep to the sadness, but Celeste Kane just wouldn’t let herself be all that sympathetic. Keith had been disappointed in Duncan, and sad for his daughter all over, again. But hearing the news, Celeste’s main reaction, was anger.   
  
    “Me?” Veronica blinked. Duncan Kane, the prodigal son from such high places, screwed up, and Veronica still found herself wrong somehow, in Celeste Kane’s cold eyes. “How did  _ I  _ let this-”   
  
    “Duncan was a big boy, Celeste,” Logan stopped Veronica with a subtle nod, and dulcet tones. “He made his own mistakes,” running a hand through his hair, Logan shook his head, thinking back to all the times Duncan played peacemaker.    
  
    “A satisfied man doesn’t go running around playing house in other cities.” Capped by a harsh scowl, Celeste’s clipped voice accused Veronica of Duncan’s wrongdoings.    
  
     “Hey-” Veronica started, and turned her head sharply to Logan when he let out a chuckle.    
  
    “They only run around the same city?” Logan accused something back at Celeste, that gave Veronica pause.    
  
     “Jake  _ never- _ ” Celeste’s grip tightened on her own cup of tea.    
  
     “Jake did.” Logan promised, softly, but his gaze didn’t back down.    
  
    “There’s a Lilly Kane out there, looking for a family,” breathing easier, Veronica almost smiled, finally getting to use the f-word that always seemed to bother Celeste Kane the most. Talking with Logan before the meeting, Veronica had readied herself for nastiness, she had prepared for Celeste Kane to be in rare form. They talked about trying to be gentle, even if it was just for Duncan, or just for themselves. Veronica tried to keep her plan in mind, “There’s a Lilly Kane out there looking for  _ her _ family.”   
  
    “And the family fortune?” Celeste asked, a fresh scowl practically supplying her own anwer. “ _ Not _ without a DNA sample,” she muttered.    
  
     Tamped down by Logan’s information, Celeste still looked furious, and not just exclusively with Veronica, anymore.    
  
    “ _ You _ should’ve been watching him,” she said to Logan, and sighed.    
  
    With a disbelieving smile, Veronica shook her head, and met Logan’s eyes.    
  
    “You know, it  _ is _ a way to still have a part of Duncan,” Logan offered to Celeste, but his voice softened for Veronica next to him.    
  
    Finally releasing her grip on her teacup, Celeste sighed again, still discontented.    
  
    “I suppose this is the  _ last _ bombshell I can expect from you two?” Looking between them, Celeste didn’t make it sound so much like a goodbye, but Veronica figured she could do her own surmising. “I’ll have the lawyers send over your NDAs, if this makes it to the press I’ll know who to thank. This  _ woman _ is coming to Neptune, yes?” Straightening out of her seat, Celeste got ready for her guests to go.    
  
    Clearing his throat, Logan shrugged, “Meg’s waiting to hear from me about any legal proceedings.” With a guilty look at Veronica, Logan noticed her eyes had gone to the floor on their way out of the Kanes’ den.    
  
    “So, what’ll it be, you think? You’ll have her call you, what- Nana, G-maw? Good ‘ole fashioned grandmama?” Veronica took the easy snipe, and watched Logan’s head duck in a secret smirk. “I don’t know why  _ Uncle Lolo _ finds that funny?” A slap to his shoulder, Veronica followed Logan out of the Kane house, with only a wave back at Celeste.    
  
    After facing her father, facing Celeste, Veronica thought she felt lighter, somehow. Duncan was gone, and sifting through the wreckage, his wreckage, wasn’t getting easier, but it wasn’t getting harder, at least.    
  
    “Lolo’s hardly the worst thing you’ve ever called me,” Logan laughed over the hood of his car, going around to the driver’s seat.    
  
    “Well, in my defense, you  _ were _ being a shithead at that fourth of July barbecue, and that’s why I called you one.”    
  
    “Yeah, I was,” Logan laughed again, shaking his head. Drunk and daring Duncan to jump over the firepit at the beach house like they were teenagers, and Logan had burnt the hem of his pants and soles of his shoes performing his own stunt. “You were nice in there,” he said, turning a smile to Veronica. “Nicer than she deserved, especially after the ring.”   
  
    Taking a deep breath, Veronica nodded. “Yeah, well. Thanks for backing me up.” Resisting the urge to smile back at him, Veronica kept her eyes on the road home. “Maybe after your retirement, you can go into lion taming full-time.”    
  
    “There’s a joke about cougars loving me, somewhere in there.” With a sideways smirk, Logan taunted the smile out of Veronica, at last. “You really gonna sign that NDA? You could be signing away some pretty exciting chapters of your memoir,” his tone sobered, even as he still teased her.    
  
    Settling into the passenger seat, Veronica shook her head.    
  
    “What about you, Mr. Big Time Producer? Has any of this gone how you might’ve produced it?” She asked, straightening her eyes forward when a quiet moment settled between them, again. The story of their lives, Duncan’s life, was derailed, there was no question. Secret offspring, and tragic deaths, and all the sad details Veronica was still working out.   
  
    “Well,” Logan spoke, finally, with a shrug, “I guess the act’s not over yet, is it?”

 


	11. Both of Us, the Other Woman

    Veronica jumped up when she heard the quick knock at the door, and instantly hated herself immensely. She was furious with herself, she was never going to forgive herself.   
  
    “Oh, god,” she winced, throwing a panicked glare at Logan. “Is it too late to turn off all the lights, stay really quiet and pretend she’s got the wrong place?” Involuntarily whispering in her own home, Veronica felt a fresh bout of self-loathing creep over her. It was like a dare with herself- she’d _volunteered_ to have Meg meet at her house, she _invited_ her- through Logan. She’d put her stamp of approval square on Meg’s probably-gorgeous face, and now she was going to have to go through with it; meet her, talk to her, acknowledge her existence in general.   
  
    “Hey, it’s not too late,” Logan tensed when the knock at the door came again. “Well, it’s probably too late to do your plan, but I can take her somewhere,you don’t have to go through with this if it’s too much.” His hand on her shoulder, Logan pulled his fingertips back from the hem of Veronica’s sleeve. “Just a minute!” Logan called at the door, and heard a muffled response. “Veronica?”   
  
    She could hear the blood pumping in her ears. She was spinning out. Months of wedding planning, weeks of grieving and investigating and _dealing…_   
  
    “Maybe…” Feeling her breath still coming in panicked gasps, Veronica could only hope she wasn’t crying. It wasn’t the time for months of feelings to catch up to her, and she tried to remind herself that it wouldn’t be fair to Meg. Duncan had lied to her, Duncan had made her feel like this, Meg was… an unwilling partner; Logan had said that himself, Meg hadn’t known about Duncan’s life in Neptune. Swallowing a shaky breath, Veronica looked back at Logan. “Okay, okay. I’m good,” she nodded. “Well, not good but, you know…”   
  
    Running his hand down her back, Logan remembered what his mother did when she couldn’t face his father’s indiscretions. Exactly one moment of doubt, and then Veronica Mars’ back straightened, and her breathing returned to relatively normal.   
  
    “Ready?” Logan checked again, and reached for the door. If the meeting wasn’t going to be incredibly awkward already, Logan might’ve felt back about leaving Meg Manning on the doorstep.   
  
    “Ready,” Veronica nodded, still struggling to remember why she ever thought this might be a good idea.   
  
    The next few moments were a flurry of awkward sizing-ups and non-hand-shakes. At least for Veronica. In her periphery she was aware that Logan was being civil for her, being downright cordial under the circumstances. But the second the door to the apartment opened, a tiny set of pigtails sprang through, running wildly past Veronica, teetering here and there. Blinking herself back into the moment, getting the world back into focus, Veronica let her eyes meet Meg.   
  
    “This is Veronica…” Logan prompted, trying to get a bead on what Veronica was thinking. He cursed at himself, internally; he’d prepared her for Meg Manning, but he hadn’t prepared himself even, for Meg to bring the baby.  
  
    “I’m Meg,” the woman stepped into the apartment, “That’s Lilly,” she said with a wince. The baby girl was squealing happily running around the coffee table. “I just….”  
  
   Forcing herself back into her body, Veronica brought on a big, hopefully-convincing smile. “I’m Veronica,” she gave a slight wave, and shrugged at Logan’s weird look her way. Looking at Meg, Veronica was angry with herself, again; whatever she imagined Meg to be, she was sure she wasn’t it. Petite, blonde, pretty; wearing a big, uneasy smile. Veronica felt like she was looking into an odd sort of mirror. And she reminded herself what she had reminded Celeste Kane. Meg lost someone, too; someone who’d lied to her, too, and she was on Veronica’s doorstep looking for family, or maybe even just the same answers Veronica was looking for.  She imagined what her father might say to a client in her position, and she swallowed the lump in her throat.  
  
     “Do you want to sit?” Logan asked, awkwardly aware that he was playing host in Veronica’s home. But Veronica looked almost far-away to him, like she was there, really trying, but also desperately wanting to be somewhere else.   
  
    “Thanks…” Navigating herself around a still-stiff Veronica, Meg smiled uneasily, wrangling a still-mobile Lilly up to her hip.   
  
      Then Veronica saw small, blue eyes with long lashes blink at her, and she softened. “Please, sit,” she nodded, and directed Meg to a chair in the kitchen. “Can I get you anything; water, coffee?” The small, blue eyes were still looking at her, tiny pink lips in a bright, innocent smile. Duncan did all those bad things- he lied, he cheated, he hurt her; she knew that. But he also did _that,_ she smiled down at the little Lilly, and she felt a little less overwhelmed.   
  
    Following Veronica’s lead, Logan got coffee cups from the cabinet. With their backs to Meg for a second, Logan watched Veronica take a deep, steadying breath. Reaching across the kitchen counter, he gave Veronica’s hand a quick squeeze, and he offered her a small smile.   
  
    “Milk or sugar?” Logan turned back to Meg, and just shook his head. He hadn’t expected the kid to look _so_ much like his best friend. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whew! so initially i was busy for maybe a week and couldn't write this story... and then ultimately, trying to pin down exactly where i wanted this to go and make it absolutely perfect became the enemy of writing it at all. i'm still not happy exactly with how this chapter goes, but it's written and that's a lot more than i can say for a lot of other versions of it. expect pretty rapid updates to this again, though. i wanna get back into this story, this Veronica needs to deal with some stuff.


	12. Grief for Dinner, Pudding for Dessert

    “Thanks, for… making dinner,” Logan smoothed the back of his hair at the base of his neck, walking Meg out of the apartment complex. “You really didn’t have to do that,” he shot a half-smile her way, getting to the curb.    
  
     Dinner was awkward at first, everybody wanting to talk and nobody knowing what to say. Lilly ended up breaking most of the ice, spilling juice and babbling happily and smoothing the room over with giggles and hugs. Meg insisted on making herself useful and amiable, cooking dinner, while Veronica and Logan set the table and eventually they just chatted. About Duncan, and Lilly, and Logan eventually saw Veronica bring her guard down. A little. Sizing up Meg eventually gave way to just talking to her. Sharing their grief. At times, laughing at the weirdness, at the freshness of their almost-mutual wounds.    
  
    Logan and Veronica gave Meg the heads up about Celeste, about the Kane fortune throwdown that was going to ensue over Lilly’s parentage and any rights to claim the Kane name. There were awkward, touchy moments, moments where all three of them had tears well up, where they mourned for their collective loss in different ways. There were moments where they genuinely  laughed, too. Even Veronica, Logan watched. Eventually, the baby drifted off in her mom’s lap, and when Lilly started to drool on Meg’s shirt sleeve she figured it was time to go.   
  
    “She hates me, doesn’t she?” Meg eyed the apartment’s front door from the street. “She seems… kind of perfect, you know.” Tucking her little girl’s hair behind her ear, Meg thought about Veronica Mars. Dinner was another way to get to know the truth about her daughter’s father. And Meg wasn’t entirely sure it’d gone that well. It was an uncomfortable situation, and even when the tension lifted Meg wouldn’t describe anyone’s behavior as exactly… relaxed.    
  
    “Veronica?” Logan looked back at the building, too. “She’ doesn’t hate you,” he shook his head. “I think she’s still in shock, a little bit. You two just…” A whole dinner and Logan never found the words for it.    
  
    “Have too much in common?” Meg winced. “It would be easier for her if I wasn’t here; wasn’t real. I really  _ didn’t  _ think Duncan was engaged, but… I guess it kind of makes sense, looking back. I never felt like he was lying to me, just maybe not telling me the whole truth. The weird hours he’d call, only having him stay on weekends. He always seemed like, he was on vacation with me, and I never pushed that feeling away. I guess now I really know why.” Lowering a still-sleeping Lilly into her carseat, Meg smudged chocolate pudding from dessert off her baby’s cheek, and Logan smiled at his feet.    
  
   “There’s a lot we all didn’t know about DK. And there’s a lot you don’t know about Veronica, too; she doesn’t blame you, though.” Folding his arms across his chest, Logan knew where they could both place their blame. He wondered all night about what Duncan would’ve said for himself, would’ve said to  _ them.  _ Trying to find the right words, Logan just tried not to pick the wrong ones. He watched Meg nod at him, slowly.    
  
    “I’d sort of like to wring his neck,” Meg confessed with a guilt-laden shrug. “I know that probably sounds bad.” She sighed, with an uncomfortable smile. It sounded awful to her, but she was angry with Duncan, too.   
  
    “I think that’s another thing you and Veronica probably have in common,” Logan looked back at the apartment. He wanted to know what Duncan would say about dinner, but he wanted to know Veronica’s reaction, too. And hers he could actually get without a psychic or a coroner.    
  
   Looking down at her baby, closing the car door with a soft click, Meg nodded, again. “He was a good dad, you know. I don’t know how much Lilly really understands about… what’s going on, but. Even if he didn’t love me like I thought, he loved his daughter.” Shaking Logan’s hand, Meg swallowed a shaky breath. “It was really nice meeting both of you. I wanted to understand, and I think I do now, a little. Thank Veronica for me, okay?”    
  
    Watching the car pull away, Logan gave half a wave to the rearview. Of course Duncan made a great dad, Logan hoped the small Lilly wouldn’t soon forget that.    
  
    Eyeing the apartment from the curb, Logan hoped all of this helped Veronica somehow. He hoped it hadn’t hurt her all over again. Once upon a time they’d been something like enemies, culminating in her actually catching him with his pants down. Listening to her talk openly with Meg, Logan admired Veronica in a way he never predicted. In all his loss, Logan didn’t think he’d ever found a way to help anybody else, he’d never once made anyone feel better about their own grief. He  _ watched _ Veronica’s tragedy help Meg’s, and help little Lilly’s, too. Swallowing a fresh lump forming in his throat, Logan walked back to the apartment, and let himself back in.    
  
     “Well, that was…” Logan sighed, still unsure of the words. “How are you-” He blinked, realizing that Veronica was sitting on the floor, back against the kitchen cabinet, just staring up at him, wine bottle between her palms.    
  
   “She  _ cooked _ for us,” she let out a half-whine, half-groan, thinking about the night as a whole. “She’s practically perfect, she’s not evil or ugly or…” Frowning, she shook her head, refocusing on Logan. “How am I….  _ feeling?” _ Veronica brightened, but stayed sitting. “Very, very,  _ very _ thirsty,” she wiggled the bottle at him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm so i did for sure disappear again. you guys just don't stop liking/commenting/looking at this one, so i really wanna finish it for you. we still have a bit of journey left, though. but i wanna stick with it, even if i really don't think it's my best work. thanks for reading, and i swear i read all your comments even when i'm disappeared, and they're very encouraging.


	13. Drinks and dessert. Okay, just drinks.

“Logan, Logan, Logan, Logan,” Veronica said his name in quick repetition, until it didn’t sound like his name to either of them anymore. Formerly feeling thirsty, about an hour later Veronica was feeling properly drunk.   
  
    “What, what, what, what,” he answered, with a teasing grin. Settling down on the kitchen floor with her, Logan made peace with only occasionally getting sips of her wine bottle. It was clear from the way she was smiling at him, like she was torn up and confused about even smiling. For the longest time he’d known her to be someone entirely sure of herself, and even when they hadn’t liked each other he’d liked that about her. Drinking on the kitchen floor with Veronica Mars wasn’t ever a scene he imagined.   
  
    “I think I wanna be mad at you,” Veronica confessed, her face screwed up at him like it was a confusing thought. “Whenever Duncan did something bad before, he was usually with you and I could  _ usually _ come to terms with hating your influence and being  _ mad _ at  _ you.” _ Determined to make her point, she frowned at him for good measure.    
  
    “Like when I was being a shithead on the fourth of July,” he reminded her, throwing her the safety blanket of being pissed off at him for it all over again. Her determined faux-frown softened, as she nodded, taking another sip.   
  
    “Exactly. Red-white-and-blue backyard diy pyro-hour? It’s amazing you still have all your fingers and toes, let alone that the  _deck_ survived- you know that.” Shaking her head sternly, Veronica wondered if she’d lost her point somewhere. “Duncan helped your shithead cause but-”   
  
    “But you could be  _ mad,  _ at me,” Logan smiled, showing her he was fully following along at home.    
  
    “Is it wrong to wanna yell at you even when Duncan’s the one that hurt me?” Veronica shifted her position on the floor, back cramping against the hardwood of the cabinets. Leaning a majority of her back against Logan’s chest instead, she huffed a sigh. “Meg’s so  _ nice, _ the baby’s so  _ cute, _ Duncan’s  _ gone, _ everyone else is so busy feeling sorry for me that I feel guilty about everything, too.” She exhaled a shaky breath. “You’re the only one around to be mad at,” she grimaced at the admission. “Even though you haven’t done anything-”   
  
    “Shithead-like?” Logan supplied, handily, with a laugh spiting himself.    
  
    “You were  _ great _ today,” Veronica said, like she was realizing it all over again. “With Meg, and Lilly, and  _ me-”  _ she waved the now-empty bottle of wine around for proof, and swore she already felt the alcohol wearing off. She was feeling more like herself than she had all day, she just couldn’t exactly remember if that was good or bad. _   
_ _   
_ __ “You can handle yourself alright, Mars. I think you did a great job; my money was on disaster and meltdown of epic proportions but,  _ hey-” _ For teasing her, Logan took a skinny elbow to the ribs.    
  
    “I actually did really like Meg,” Veronica confessed, again, feeling weird about the whole thing. Liking Meg was confusing, being revealing with Logan Echolls was confusing, navigating the whole mess without Duncan was still confusing, although she felt like she was starting to get the hang of being confused. “I mean she’s different than I pictured. I don’t know what I pictured…But today was kind of nice, getting to know them. Know more about Duncan’s other life.” she shook her head. “I think it would’ve surprised him,” Veronica added.    
  
    “That you can be very nice? A couple months ago, it would’ve  _ shocked  _ me, too.” Logan teased her, again, feeling his sips of wine. She was drunk and laughing, and that seemed like a better combination than drunk and crying; he knew she could’ve had a lot to cry about.    
  
    “ _ No,” _ Veronica rolled her eyes. “I think it would’ve surprised him that we… you know, got along. Besides, it would’ve surprised me a couple months ago that you’re not a jerk,” she softened, relaxing against him.    
  
    “Oh, you flatter me, Mars. All those ex-girlfriends got me wrong, huh?” Nudging her, Logan was starting to feel his ass go dead against the kitchen tile, but he didn’t have the heart to break up their strange, cathartic scene.    
  
     “Well, maybe you were pretending to be a jerk with them. But you’re really a nice guy who _pretends_ to be a jerk,” she pointed at him for emphasis, and considered herself sagely in the moment. “Thank you,” Veronica added, releasing a relieved breath, “for  _ not _ being that jerk, really. You’ve been more helpful than anybody since…” she sighed, “I don’t know how it would’ve been without you.” The laughing stopped suddenly, and they were just sitting on the floor, too close and too comfortable and neither one of them moved.    
  
    “You would’ve been fine,” he promised, offering a solemn nod when she needed the convincing. “Really fine. But I’m glad I could help, if I did.” Running his fingertips through his hair, Logan found himself glad to be on Veronica’s good side. Glad to be laughing about the times when they didn’t get along, glad to be somebody she confided in on the kitchen floor. Smoothing the back of his hair against his neck, Logan knew it was probably past time to get up and go to bed. “Well, uh… Maybe now’s a good time to say goodnight, I guess? Lemme help you up.”    
  
    “See?” Veronica attempted blazing fingerguns while Logan pulled her to her feet, “You’re being sweet.” Once vertical, Veronica felt better. Or at least her back did. Looking up to Logan, Veronica remembered that she’d been saying embarrassingly nice things about him all night, and shrugged a little when she realized she didn’t regret it. “We were saying goodnight,” she reminded him after a moment, and they pulled their hands apart when they were both standing upright.   
  
    “We were,” With a soft smile, Logan nodded. “Goodnight, Veronica.”    
  
    Without thinking, or without thinking clearly, Veronica hopped up to her tiptoes and kissed the corner of his mouth. They shared a breathless moment, and when she came down off the balls of her feet and looked up at him, Logan’s face was unreadable enough that Veronica squeaked out her goodnight and hustled her way to her own bed, leaving him alone in the kitchen.    
  
     The whole day had played out in front of him in slow motion, but Veronica kissed him and ran, like she had cartoon feet that could’ve left a dust cloud where she was just standing. Blinking to himself in the empty kitchen, he really wasn’t sure what to think. But pressing his fingertips to his lips, Logan really wished they hadn’t finished  __ all the wine, and forced himself to climb into the pullout bed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> rip my laptop, which is only one of like ten reasons this update took forever. but there's more to come, for reals. thank you for all your sweet comments and everything, i promise i'm gonna finish this one for you, i just... don't know when it's gonna be done. <3


	14. Morning Sun is Rising, It's Kissing the Day

  Rolling around her bed in yesterday’s jeans, a fuzzy memory came back to Veronica from the night before. She remembered saying goodbye to Meg, she remembered sitting on the kitchen floor... She remembered metaphorical gut spilling over very literal wine…    
  
    “Do I smell pancakes?” Swallowing any residual shame, Veronica wore yesterday’s jeans all the way back to the kitchen. Because she was pretty sure she smelled pancakes.   
  
    “Hangover cure concoctions have been misguided for centuries,” Logan had his back to her, as he flipped another pancake from the skillet. Turning towards her with a smile, he offered her a hot plate and a hot cup of coffee. “Aunt Jemima had it right from the start.” Pushing a bottle of syrup her way, Logan realized she wasn’t indulging her usual appetite and was still practically standing in the doorway. “You look… surprised; confused, even. Maybe confounded, which wounds me a little bit, you know,” he smiled.    
  
     Blinking, Veronica shrugged. “You spouting Aunt Jemima’s praises and offering me greasy breakfast foods is… a little surprising,” she said, as she sat down to her plate.    
  
       With a shrug, Logan figured he should’ve expected her doubt, even still. “Pretty sure the neighbors heard you booze-snoring; I figured pancakes would be the safest way to wake the bear.” He smiled across the kitchen, as she finally approached. “So to speak,” he added.   
  
    Sitting down, ready to munch happily as long as she could ignore the pounding in her head, Veronica let him off with only an easy glare; after  _ all, _ he cooked. “I don’t know  _ what _ you’re talking about,” she feigned innocence, ready to denying snoring til the day she slept in her grave. “You  _ or _ the neighbors,” she shrugged, reaching for the coffee he poured her. Sugar and cream. It was how she drank her coffee when she was alone, but she wasn’t going to ask how he surmised that. Caffeine and pancake grease were working their magic on her post-wine headache and she wanted to enjoy that for the moment.  _ Before _ she remembered all the reasons she had been wine-drinking. “Breakfast of champions; the office will thank you for feeding me when I don’t bite their heads off all morning.” With a wince, she glanced at the microwave’s clock over Logan’s shoulder and knew she’d be late, again. Being the boss’ daughter had it’s crucial perks, and grieving came with it’s extra personal days, but the backlog of work she’d been letting pile up was starting to make her skin itch. Eating the last bite of pancake, Veronica cleared her throat. “This was…”   
  
    “Sweet?” Logan spoke from behind his coffee mug, testing the waters a bit to see exactly  _ what  _  she remembered about… the night before. He kept his eyes on his pancakes, and after a beat added, “You know… ‘cause the syrup. Sweet.” Saluting her with his fork, he let his eyes linger on her face, looking for recognition or recollection or even regret. But he could only notice that she looked better this morning. The dark circles  _ aside _ , she looked like a woman in recovery, even if she was still unsure about it.   
  
     She wondered if he was teasing her, but finished her coffee while trying to decide.   
  
    “As a matter of fact,” she dipped her finger in the extra syrup, and flicked a drop his way, “Very sweet,” she smiled, shaking her head. Thanking him in their own way. With a deep breath, she jumped up. “I need a shower and then I’m gonna go work off these pancake calories by catching up on all the work my dad’s been letting me slide on.” She nodded, reassuring herself. “Oh, just leave the dishes in the sink, I’ll get ‘em later, okay?”    
  
    Mentally adding that to her  _ later _ to-do list, Veronica hustled her shower. A five minute shower wasn’t the ideal pre-work regimen, but she figured if she had any more time than that anyways, she would’ve had to  _ think _ and  _ thinking _ meant all kinds of things she wasn’t ready for yet. All kinds of  _ thoughts _ about Meg and Lilly and Duncan and Logan and Lilly and… she was thinking. She accidentally let herself think. Dragging a comb through her hair and spitting her toothpaste into the sink, Veronica grabbed her stuff and waved goodbye to Logan, who was still contentedly sipping coffee in the kitchen.   
  
    “Make good choices,” Logan’s voice sing-songed Veronica out the door with a laugh, and she headed to work shaking her head with a small smile. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have a few more chapters written of this, and dare i say... momentum?? who knows.. thank you for reading. as always. <3 originally, this was supposed to be part of 13 but. sometimes it's like that.


	15. Looking for Simple

     Licking the seal of the envelope, Veronica double-checked her spelling. In neat, cursive letters, Veronica had the label written out to Meg Manning. The documents inside needed Meg’s signature, and then a DNA test could be conducted on the little Lilly. Across the office, Veronica eyed her dad’s closed office door with a sigh. Some little girls needed their dads. She stamped the envelope and tucked it away to be mailed after work, feeling sad for the tiniest maybe-Kane all over again. The ten million dollar inheritance wouldn’t be a substitute for having a father- but it could help Lilly’s life all the same. And no matter how her mind had changed about Duncan Kane, no matter how many secrets she found out or bombshells were dropped on her, Veronica had to believe that he would’ve wanted his daughter’s future taken care of. That was what the payments to Meg had been all about, after all. Providing for Lilly, as his daughter.    
  
    “V?” Weevil knocked twice as a courtesy, unknowingly interrupting her inner monologue.    
  
    “I know, I still have to-” The list of things she still had to catch up on, was  _ long _ .   
  
   “Nope, not work-related. Guy here for you downstairs, said it’s a personal issue; he looks like an aging boy-band member who might iron his jeans?” Weevil stepped closer to Veronica’s desk. “I can tell him to scram.”   
  
    Veronica frowned, thinking. “Does said aging boy-band member have a name?” There was a reason Weevil didn’t act as Mars’ Investigations’ regular reception.    
  
    “He said he wasn’t here for a case; Pez, something? Something about Kane Industries? For some reason he thinks you know him.” Since Duncan’s death, Weevil had a hard time knowing where Veronica’s head was. The tragedy combined with secrets, lies, and uncovering the truth had to be taking it’s toll on her. He’d known her a long time, and knew that they both liked pretending they were too tough to bleed; but the whole thing made Weevil hold his wife tighter at night.    
  
    “Piz. Stosh...zarski?” Veronica nodded with light recognition, putting a face in her mind. Aging boy-band member who ironed his jeans suddenly rang completely coherent.    
  
    “And… should he be scram-ing?” Weevil’s days as Veronica’s first call for muscle-y back up were a little behind them, but he could always hope for a brief reprisal.    
  
    “I guess, send him in? But if I need him dragged out, I’ll whistle for ya,” she winked her promise, and had him shaking his head.    
  
    A minute later, Piz was knocking on her office door and shaking her hand hello.    
  
    “Veronica Mars,” Piz smiled, and Veronica kept thinking about Weevil’s teasing characterization. People didn’t  _ really _ iron their jeans, did they? In all her investigations, it had never come up… “It’s been a long time,” he held her hand too long, and Veronica pulled it back as nice as possible, thinking about the last time they’d actually seen eachother; last year’s Kane Industries Christmas party. They’d exchanged few words, and most of them had been awkward, at least from Veronica’s point of view. “I just want to say how sorry I am… I looked for you at Duncan’s wake, but you were always busy; there was never a good time, how are you?”    
  
_ How was she. _ At the Christmas party, Veronica remembered him schmoozing her with all the appropriate corny jokes befitting her role as the boss’ girlfriend, but Duncan had teased later that the water cooler shared that Piz nursed a little crush on her for awhile before her and Duncan were engaged.    
  
   “Yeah, it was sort of a whirlwind day…” Month, year… Veronica nodded at the belated pity, and started to miss Weevil’s blunt tongue. She felt like she’d been talking to Piz for ten minutes and still had no idea why he was in her office. “Eli said this wasn’t case-related, so…” She prompted, and gestured for him to sit across from her.    
  
    “Right,” he sat, clearing his throat. “The office is building a fountain, dedicated to Duncan, and there’s gonna be a beautiful opening ceremony next week for the dedication; we thought you might want to be a part of the unveiling, say a few words about him, if you’d like. A few of us are going to sing songs in memoriam, Mrs. Kane said she would come to the ceremony; we thought you’d like to be a part of it.” He’d volunteered to be the one to ask Veronica; he wasn’t sure how delicate some of the other guys in the office could be. But seeing her office, his eyes caught on the picture of Duncan on her desk, and that drew Veronica’s attention to it, too.    
  
     “Oh,” she buffered; processing. A memorial to Duncan at Kane Industries. That tracked, that made sense.    
  
     “You knew him best, and we’d all love to hear from you,” Piz smiled gently, saying exactly the thing that had Veronica biting her tongue til it bled. “Right? And it would mean a lot to the rest of us,” he nodded, waiting for her to catch up. “We just thought-”   
  
     “Yeah, okay,” Veronica reassured them both. “I can say a few words,” she nodded. Say a few words, shed a few tears, perform her grief for a crowd. Completely sure that she probably never knew Duncan best at all, she wondered how  _ that _ figured into her grief.

     She missed him, and she missed their old life, but things were so much more complicated than that. Her grief tangled with her fury, her disappointment, her feelings of betrayal and confusion. The crowd wouldn’t be interested in that part of her performance. They wanted to mourn the World’s Best Boss, and they wanted her to put aside her complications and simply mourn with them. Maybe for one day, it could all be less complicated. “I’ll be there,” Veronica decided, for better or worse. “Was there… anything else?”   
  
    It was Piz’s turn to catch up, tearing his eyes away from Duncan’s photo. Veronica looked again, really looked. It was from their engagement party- they were laughing sharing engagement cake and champagne glasses. Looking at the picture, Veronica felt like a different person then. Like they were different people.    
  
    “No, nope… that’s it. See you there, I guess. Thanks, Veronica. I’m so sorry for your loss,” shaking her hand, Piz left her alone with a final, boy-band-poster half-smile. 

  
    Swallowing the uncomfortable, metallic taste of new grief in her mouth, Veronica false-smiled Piz out of her office and then picked up the picture frame from her desk. She pushed thoughts from her head, willing the whole world silent for a minute, and tucked the frame into a desk drawer, face down. After a breath, she sat back at her desk, ignoring the dust mark from where the picture used to sit. She still had work to do, and she tried to get herself to refocus. Fresh worry about what she might say to a crowd that missed Duncan, she wondered how she was supposed to make mourning easy for them when it was so difficult still for her. Reminding herself to mail Meg Manning's envelope, she figured  _ maybe _ one day would be less complicated, but Veronica couldn't imagine when.    
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so I took some admittedly cheap shots here but. I just didn't want it to feel so sad lol. More to come soon! Thanks y'all


	16. Easier

     “Speak at the guy’s memorial, huh? Are you really up for that, Veronica?” Wallace had a light beer at Veronica’s kitchen table. Checking in on his best friend, Wallace found Logan Echolls still hogging the couch, and Veronica still not minding. He was going to end up oweing Keith ten dollars for them not killing each other. But Veronica’s life kept asking more of her, asking her to put more on her plate, deal with more drama and heartache. He remembered how tough the funeral was for her, and that was before the guy broke her heart. “Lemme guess, the side-piece isn’t invited?”

     “Meg is a nice girl,” Veronica felt pretty sure of that, despite everything, and slapped Wallace’s arm. “But I think the only place Celeste Kane is inviting her is to a lawyer’s office.” Waving off Logan’s outstretched offer of a beer of her own, Veronica shook her head. “The headache I had this morning means me and alcohol are on a break,” she smiled weakly, a nod to how messy she felt about the night before.

     Logan unoffered the beer with an understanding nod, and popped the top for himself. Him and alcohol could always get along just fine.

     “What about you? They’re not dragging you into this fountain dedication? He didn’t cheat on _you_ ,” Wallace asked Logan, still skeptical of how tragedy and scandal were somehow bonding agents between Logan and Veronica. But Wallace still trusted the Kanes less.

     “I only make public appearances for tips and to spite my father’s legacy,” Logan tucked his smile into a corner of his mouth. “I did talk to… Stosh, though?” Never spending too much time around Kane Industries, Logan always preferred the after-hours Duncan.

     “I thought he goes by Piz,” Veronica smarted, almost not feeling up to teasing Logan or Piz, but she made the effort anyway.

     “Someone should tell the guy that that’s not better,” Wallace shook his head. “See? I bet Logan turned ‘em down cold, you don’t have to do to this to yourself, Veronica. I mean, what do they even want you to say?” Wallace backed off a little with a look at Logan, but it was hard to pretend like he wasn't furious at the mess Duncan left Veronica. He used to actually not mind the guy, if only for Veronica's sake.

     “I told _Piz_ that you might not want to be on the planning committee, but he wanted to hear it from you,” Logan volunteered to break the tense moment at the table. He could understand Wallace's barbed comments, he was surprised it didn't happen more often. “I told him I would attend without speaking; DK's work friends were never big members of my fan club.” He shrugged with a smile, smoothing the beer label against the green glass.

     “Almost like actual grown ups work at Kane Industries, and they might've begrudged your presence since it usually brought _DK_ under the influence of debauchery and alcohol. And fireworks,” Veronica teased, long past the point of considering Logan as Duncan's bad influence. Logan even almost beamed proud, after an eye roll and muttering something about grown ups. “I don't know,” Veronica’s mind went back to Piz. “It sounded like me saying a few words at this thing might make it a little easier for everyone, you know?” She shrugged. “I could do that.” _Maybe_ , she added to herself.

     “I'm just saying; the Kanes, Celeste, the company, Piz… You don't owe them anything,” Wallace stood, ready to head home. His best friend didn't look great, but she had looked worse, and he was going to have to live with that, he figured. “See you guys later, thanks for the beer. Don't be a stranger, Mars; I'm here if you need anything.”

     “Anything? You know that's a dangerous word to be throwing around, Fennel; I must be in worse shape than I think for you to break out the big guns,” Veronica let him hug her tight, and closed the door behind him.

     “He's right about that, you know. You don't owe them anything…” Logan called over his shoulder, rinsing his beer bottle out in the sink. “It's not your job to make any of this easier for anyone but yourself,” turning back to Veronica, the smile he tried for was hopeful.

     “You, me, and Wallace, all agreeing on something? Is it opposite day already?” Teasing, Veronica relaxed back into her chair, tapping her fingertips against the table, idly. “I don't have to make it easier for them, but I think it actually might make it easier for me, too, though. You know? A… different kind of goodbye. Probably the only kind I'm gonna get, I guess. Unless my Sunday school teachers really knew what they were talking about,” Veronica tried her smile hopeful, too.

     Logan shifted back into his seat across from her, and for the second time in a day, Veronica felt like she was sitting opposite someone who wanted to say something they weren't saying.

     “First, Piz’s awkward lingering goodbye shuffle and now even you're being squirmy,” she prompted, and he sat up a little straighter in the chair.

     “Even over the phone, he strikes me as just kind of an awkward lingering goodbye shuffle kind of guy,” Logan went for the joke, and stretched in his chair. That was not the _same_ as squirming. “On the phone,” Logan shook his head, “he mentioned that some of those grown ups in the Kane offices have been whispering about a DK secret love child inheriting the company. Maybe he wanted to ask you about it, but I told him not to go fishing with you.” He might've used harsher language, but Logan figured that was between him and Piz.

     With a big, stunted nod, Veronica shook her head, too. “Maybe I should take questions at this speech. We'll have a nice q&a sesh about Duncan's secret life,” with a groan, she ran her hand down her face. “I knew it would get out eventually. Celeste’s gonna go ballistic about that.”

     Shaking his head with a sly smile, Logan had a bright thought. “Does _that_ make it a little easier for you?”

     With a guilty shrug, Veronica gave him a tiny, wincing nod, and got up to crawl into her loving bed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today's been a tough day all around, I thought maybe we could all use a fun little chapter at the end of the night.


	17. Leaving the Nest

   “Hey, kiddo,” Keith offered a cursory nod on Veronica’s door, pulling her out of the first solid work she felt like she’d accomplished in months. “I just got a call from a cop buddy of mine in Arizona,” he started, feeling uneasy. Since she was small, his daughter had always been fiercely independent. Once his wife left, even moreso. Veronica grew up so quickly, she almost never let him kiss her booboos, or even see her hurt. In a way, it was always like she was protecting him. “One of the jumpers I’ve been tracking for awhile just resurfaced, and I’m thinking this might be my shot to get him,” he eased into it.    
  
    “Wait, which… Vinny Lorenzo?” Veronica remembered the guy. “Possession with intent?” She shook her head. “I thought maybe he was getting it together.”   
  
    Leaning into the doorway, Keith nodded, “Doesn’t look like it.” Some people had a harder time. “I’m thinking I’ll go get him-”   
  
    “Why don’t you let me go?” Veronica asked, knowing her dad was tip-toeing around telling her he was going out of town, like she was sixteen again and it was a school night. He was her dad, and he worried, and sure… some days looked rough but, at some point, Veronica figured she was going to have to at least pretend to be coping. She was going to have to prove to both of them that she could still leave the nest. “I’ll leave tonight, check in, blah blah blah, bring Vinny in and you can cash that reward check.”    
  
    Keith straightened, seemingly thinking about it. “I don’t know… Veronica, we don’t know  _ that _ much about his situation now, he could be armed or something.” Vinny Lorenzo was a twenty year old kid with a dope problem, running from jail time. That didn’t make him predictable.    
  
    “I can handle Vinny Lorenzo,” Veronica nodded. “And I could use the distraction,” she smiled her winning-dad-over smile. It was like she really  _ was _ sixteen all over again. She’d tracked down bigger guys with worse records farther away, before. “I’ll get out of town a couple of days, make us some money. Wins all around,” she reassured him, but her dad wasn’t quite making his reassured face.    
  
    He’d been worried about leaving Veronica on her own, and now she was offering to head out by herself.    
  
   “How about this, I’ll take Logan,” she volunteered, surprising them both, almost. “He’s not exactly law enforcement, but he’ll hold his own and we can probably get him to work for free.” Assuming Logan didn’t have any plans, since he’d been crashing on her couch for a month, Veronica figured he might want a distraction, too. “I’d take Back Up, too but you know he gets carsick.”   
  
    “Only when you’re driving,” Keith teased. “I guess if you’re sure, honey. You kids’ll leave tonight?” He asked, hoping his friend’s intel on Vinny was at least somewhat legit.    
  
   “I’ll leave now, and fill Logan in on the way.” Veronica grabbed her purse, already mentally packing her overnight bag. A few days in cheap motels, tracking a jumper out in the desert. She felt a little better already. 


	18. On the Road, Again

  
         “I’m just saying, this car _does_ feel like the toy surprise in a cracker jack box, that’s all,” Logan teased, stretching out in the passenger seat.   
  
      Pulling out of the drive, Veronica eyed the apartment complex in the rearview mirror.   
  
      “ _Maybe_ it does have a little more leg room, but your car’s a yellow cab that ate another yellow cab, not _exactly_ a blend-in type,” she argued with an eyeroll, “besides, I’m driving, and not all of us need extra legroom.” Resisting the urge to stick her tongue out, Veronica had her dad and her Arizona contacts on speed dial, coordinates in the GPS, and clean underwear for a couple days in her go-bag. Even arguing with Logan about who gets to drive and who calls shotgun, she felt more like herself. She even felt a little excitement; just a little.  
  
     “Fine, fine it doesn’t really keep a low-profile all that well. I don’t really need it for that,” Logan conceded. He never tried to keep a low profile. “But this is kind of normal for you, right?”   
  
     Going for the ride along, Logan didn’t need convincing to get out of Neptune for a couple days. He didn’t think he was ready to go home to LA, but a little side-mission road trip with Veronica’s driving promised to be something to look forward to, he just wasn’t sure what the whole trip was about. Before, he never put too much thought into Veronica's work, and neither she or Duncan ever talked about it all that much.  _Duncan had other things on his mind,_ Logan thought, wondering where that bitterness was coming from.  _And Veronica wasn't a friend,_ until recently, he figured. Now would be his front row- okay, passenger seat- view of private eyeing. Putting his feet on the dash, he tried to negotiate the missing leg room in her tiny car.  
  
    Veronica weaved her head back and forth, unsure how to answer.   
  
    “Impromptu road-tripping with your feet on my dashboard? Hard no.” She teased with a playful glare, thinking about the kind of trips she’d made by herself before. “Catching a jumper before the border? Sort of normal.”  
  
     In college, would-be bond-skippers and the occasional repo of a yacht paid a lot of her tuition bills. But with her dad’s office expanding- with Weevil, Mac, and Cliff on the payroll on a semi-regular basis, bail-jumpers mostly took a backseat to more localised paychecks; like tracking down revenge porn posters for damages, and the steady stream of fraud cases.  
  
    “Usually a few a year, usually pretty easy money if you’ve got a couple days to burn out in the desert tracking leads.” It was almost funny to her, that her and Logan lived such different lives. She’d been in her world since high school and never shared it with very many people, including Duncan. Maybe that was her fault, she thought.  
  
 _“Usually_ pretty easy money? Sounds like a story there, Mars,” Logan thought he sensed a whiff of backstory that might eat some travel time.  
  
    “No story,” Veronica shook her head a little too enthusiastically, keeping her eyes on the road. “A five thousand dollar dental tab from when a girl chipped my tooth on a beer bottle while I was hauling in her petty criminal boyfriend, but _nope_ no story there, really,” she shrugged, promising herself she wasn’t going to get mad about something that happened eight years ago all over again.   
  
    Eyebrows raised impressed, Logan swallowed the laugh threatening to break free at the furor in her voice. “But no chipped teeth this time?” He looked to her face for reassurance, and found it.   
  
    “No chipped teeth.” She smiled. “Lorenzo’s no criminal mastermind himself, he’s a nuisance with a drug habit and an inability to keep his mouth shut, but no violent history or anything like that.” Relaxing her back into the driver’s seat, Veronica knew she could handle this jumper. And Logan. “Plus, he’s always had kind of a crush on me, I think. Vinny, I mean,” she cleared her throat. “He was a couple years younger but we went to the same middle school and both spent a lot of time in the Sheriff’s office.”   
  
    Logan narrowed his eyes at the leading statement. “Lemme guess, you were both always in for jay-walking.”  
  
    Veronica shook her head, smiling, “Yep, that’s why Celeste never liked me, my criminal past,” she shook her head again. “Before my dad was in the private sector he was Sheriff, and I did a lot of my homework in the deputy break room. Vinny was always there, answering questions or visiting his dad in the drunk tank.”   
  
    Nodding, Logan could picture an even _smaller_ Veronica, doing Algebra homework and conning deputies at the vending machines.   
  
    “Besides, you’re expecting me to believe _you_ never jay-walked?” Whipping out her skeptical face, Veronica thought maybe she had to remind him about the fourth of July.   
  
    “As a kid? Regular stuff; fights at school, vandalism.” _The occasional broken nose,_ “Nothing too seriously criminal. Believe it or not,” he teased her. “You’re the only person who ever threatened to turn me in for arson,” smiling, he remembered the fourth of July differently after knowing her differently.   
  
    Ducking her head, Veronica almost felt bad about that. Almost.   
  
   “The charges would’ve stuck, is all I’m saying,” laughing, she shook her head. “Thanks for coming with me, you know. Impromptu road trip, and stuff; maybe normal for me, but not really for you, I guess.”   
  
     Before, Veronica figured Logan Echoll’s comfort zone involved coat check girls and glamour and he’d been schlepping it on her pull-out, making her coffee and dealing with her grief. It surprised Veronica to suddenly realize they were friends. She’d volunteered him to ride along without thinking about it, and he’d agreed to go without much thought there, either.   
  
    “Just thought it might be fun,” he shrugged. He thought a lot of other things, too, but he wasn’t sure how to feel about them. “Plus, who’s gonna protect your teeth and stuff?”  
  
    Shaking her head, Veronica knew she shouldn’t have walked him down that particular memory lane.   
  
   “You know what, Logan? I have a feeling that it’s gonna be a long walk back to Neptune for you, you know?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> genius boyfriend actually was able to /fix/ my laptop which will improve my update schedule dramatically. your comments (as always) are so, so appreciated and I'm gonna catch up on answering them (and posting new chapters!) way more frequently.


	19. Golden Pony Inn

    After drive-thru burgers and a quick stop for gas, Veronica eyed the mile markers and exit turn offs, and knew they were getting close to the motel Vinny was reportedly crashing at the night before.   
  
    “After the glamorous truck stop food, I just know you’re taking me to some fancy, romantic B&B joint for the overnight stay portion of this trip,” Logan laughed, and balked at Veronica’s raised eyebrow. “Not _romantic_ like, you and me _romantic_ -”  
  
   “This is it!” Veronica caught the left a little wildly, spotting the shabby-chic light-up neon motel sign at just the last second. Boasting free HBO, free wi-fi, and vacancy, Veronica didn’t have to think hard to imagine why Vinny picked this place. It was easy to miss from the main roads, and hey, free HBO. “Golden Pony Inn; _romantic_ enough for a bail skip?” Veronica caught her bottom lip between her teeth, teasing Logan.   
  
    “You think The Rusty Screw was already copyrighted?” Logan muttered, wincing at the mildew-stained bricks of the one-floor motel. “Does prison have wi-fi? Cause maybe we can convince Vinny to turn himself in just by letting him know there are actually nicer cells than this place,” he frowned; “ _The Fugitive_ gave this whole thing a way sexier look, I’m just saying.” The real-life visual had even less glamour than truck stop food.   
  
    With a half-roll of her eyes, Veronica shook her head. “We’re looking for a gray ‘99 Corolla- Vinny’s mom’s car. Maybe he’s here and we’ll catch a break.” She could almost feel bad for Vinny in some small way; his father, his brothers, all had long criminal pasts. _Maybe he never had a chance,_ she thought, checking the cars in the parking lot. He had his mom’s Corolla on the run, and she had her dad’s spare gun locked in the glove compartment. But hadn’t she had plenty of choices to turn out differently? _Maybe Vinny did, too._   
  
    “No gray Corollas, ‘99s or otherwise,” Logan surmised when they reached the last row of the parking lot and turned around.   
  
    Resting her hand on the shifter, Veronica put the car in park for a minute, thinking.   
  
    “We can write-off the Radisson across the street if we can get rooms with a view facing this way…” she decided. The lebaron would blend in, California plates and all, and the Radisson was a baby step up from the Golden Pony.   
  
     “Like a stakeout,” Logan’s eyes brightened, with the Hollywood back in them.   
  
    “Action movies ruined you somehow, didn’t they?” Parking around the back of the Golden Pony, Veronica finally turned off the car after their long drive. “I actually don’t even have a pair of binoculars for you; and I’m not good at sharing mine, ask Back Up,” she smiled. “I just wanna ask the concierge a couple of questions here before we head across the street,” she stretched getting out of the car.   
  
     With any luck, Vinny was still checked in and making a Walmart run, not a border run. It was going to be dark soon, and the prospect of running around in the desert at night wearing her dad’s gun didn’t appeal to Veronica as much as taking a shower in the Radisson and keeping an eye out for Vinny.   
  
    “I never figured you for a good sharer, I feel that I’ve always understood that about you,” Logan felt better stepping out of the car. _Lebarons are made exclusively for elves, pixies, and the vertically challenged,_ he stretched, but kept the thought to himself.   
  
    Veronica glared, but her face broke into a smile when she thought of a bad joke. “You’d think that’s something Duncan would’ve figured out too, huh?” Dismissing Logan’s disapproving look, Veronica lead him into the Golden Pony’s lobby, shaking her head. “What, I can’t laugh about it? You can’t _too soon_ me, it’s my trauma,” she winked, smiling softly.  Duncan's death, his infidelity, her new insecurities and guilt, had all been weighing her down at home. She just hadn't realized it until they got out on the road and she could just  _breathe_ better. Maybe she could laugh about it, or at least think about laughing about it.   
  
    Walking behind her into the lobby, Logan didn’t know what to make of that and opted to just follow her lead.   
  
    “Hi, I’m Veronica, we’re supposed to be meeting a friend here, but my cell died a few miles ago, would you be able to tell me what room he’s in?” Veronica held up a wallet-sized picture to the man across the counter. An older man, looking a little disheveled, Veronica didn’t think he quite owned the Golden Pony and couldn’t imagine what they could paying him to run the desk.  
  
     “He didn’t mention anything to me earlier about friends checking in,” the man looked skeptically at Logan, but Veronica saw his eyes linger on her and leaned into it. At least they already knew Vinny had definitely checked in there. It was a small step forward. But Veronica wanted more.  
  
    “ _Honey_ , I think I forgot my bag in the car, will you go get it?” Blinking hard at Logan, Veronica hoped he would stay on trend and just follow her lead and go wait by the car. It was apparent to her that it would be easier to schmooze Mr. Golden Pony as a solo show. Turning her eyelashes back to the concierge, Veronica waited for Logan to take the hint.   
  
    “Sure, let me go look for it,” Logan ground out, with a sigh. The sixty year old man at the desk was practically drooling on his shirt looking at Veronica, and it didn’t take Logan long to read the play.   
  
    After a few minutes of loitering out by the lebaron, Logan kicked a rock in the gravel as Veronica reemerged.   
  
   “Room 11; John thinks Vinny went to the diner at the next exit a little while ago, should be back soon,” Veronica sighed, She’d really wanted a look at Vinny’s hotel room, to make sure he was coming back and to see if he had any big plans or tricks up his sleeve. But she didn’t want to risk getting caught in his room and losing the element of surprise. “To the Radisson?” She raised an eyebrow. “If it’s… you know, _romantic_ enough for you?”  
  
    “Hey, don’t forget glamorous,” Logan laughed, shaking his head. “So what’d you say to him in there?” They got back in the car, and headed across the street.   
  
   “John?” Smiling, Veronica shrugged. “I flipped my hair and asked my questions real nicely,” she swallowed a joke about honey and vinegar, figuring out a long time ago that you could catch flies with both.   
  
    “Seriously?”  
  
    “Seriously. _The Fugitive_ would’ve been a way different movie if Harrison Ford was a woman,” she pointed out.


End file.
